


Pink Sweater'd Baby

by NadieisMashed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, British Slang, Dark Magic, Drama, Drama & Romance, Dysfunctional Family, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Gen, Kinda slow lol, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:26:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16504838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadieisMashed/pseuds/NadieisMashed
Summary: Prudence Pennyworth is a peculiar girl. Of a cold and lonely nature, the young witch hides a lot of secrets behind her big green eyes. Secrets that, mostly, hurt. Dark secrets. But, perhaps, with a little help, the troubled girl may find something she believed didn't exist.





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> This is it. This is "Follow Her Down" spiritual descendant. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long to continue, but here it is and it's going to stay. Thanks for being here and reading this. I hope you enjoy.  
> Also, thanks to that certain friend who helped me with the translation and the edition. You're amazing~.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is established that Prudence is very different, and not only because she's a witch.

_“Don't ask me to repeat it,_   
_I don't know what I'm feeling”._

 

The room was in total silence and darkness, as it should be when it's close to six in the morning. Beneath the sheets of a soft bed was lying the owner of the room, awake but with her eyes closed, trying to recover her sleep. Her head was submerged in the pillows, and she was so focused on her goal that she did not hear the door open slowly, nor the soft steps on the carpeted floor. She only noticed the strange presence when she felt someone climbing onto her bed and pricking his ribs.

"Wake up!", were the words the presence exclaimed. Growling, the younger twin took off the sheets and the quilt, almost throwing her older twin from the bed, who was looking at her with that characteristic smile of hers. The first looked out the window and noticed that it was much earlier than she had calculated. She frowned.

"I think I've asked you a million times that you are not wake me up so early, and if you have to do it, I said specifically without screaming", the girl said in her husky voice. The older girl let out a laugh and pinched her sister's cheek, tensing her even more.

"Don't be mad. Also, it is for a good reason! Look at this", she explained, taking out a letter from the pocket of her purple robe and crushing it against the other girl's face. The child took the object and looked curiously at her twin, and then unfolded the letter.

 

_Miss Prudence Vitali Rhodes Pennyworth,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._   
_Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._   
_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_   
_Minerva McGonagall._   
_Deputy Headmistress._

 

The little girl blinked a few times and reread the letter. She raised an eyebrow, looked at her twin, and prepared to read the parchment once more. When she finished, she decided it would be the best to pinch her arm, just to be sure. The pain of the pinch made her squeeze her throat a little, but it showed her that she wasn't dreaming. She watched her sister again, and she still had that big smile that almost seemed painful. At the silence, the twin threw herself on her and hugged her tightly, making her growl again.

"Ain't ya' happy, Prue? We'll go to Hogwarts!", she yelled in her ear. Prue closed her eyes in an attempt to resist the urge to push her sister away; the girl couldn't stand physical contact at all, especially the affectionate one, much less if they shouted in her ear. She sighed and patted her on the back, trying to make that uncomfortable moment pass soon. She noticed another letter on the floor, which was identical to hers, but it was addressed to Camelia Krystel. She guessed that it had come out of the gown pocket because of her sister's violent movement.

"I am", she admitted, though her voice was as dead and disinterested as ever. "Have you already shouted to Blanc and Fynn about this?", she asked, trying her luck to see if with that Camelia would release her at last. It functioned: her twin separated from Prue and laughed. She was beginning to feel relieved when, after jumping from her bed, Camelia took her arm and practically dragged her to her parents' room.

Prue didn't want to enter because in that place the only thing she always received were scolding and once "hard education" by Blanc, her mother, whom she could see sound asleep from the door frame, which was ajar. Camelia soon opened the door wide and hopped in.

"MOM! DAD!", she cried with all his strength, jumping up onto the bed. Blanc rose like a spring immediately, and still half asleep pulled her precious daughter to herself.

"What happen dear? What do you have? Are you hurt?!", she asked in a hurricane of worried, sleepy words, sweeping Camelia's face with her hands, brushing the fringes off from her forehead. Prue rolled her eyes; Blanc was always so exaggerated that she pissed off the younger. Camelia, who found amusement even in an ant, laughed yet again and removed her mother's hands from her face.

"No, mom ... Look!", she exclaimed, and handed the letter to the woman with more decency than she have had with her twin. Blanc straightened up and read, a smile as big as Camelia's on her lips. She turned around and shook Fynn, her husband, who had such a heavy sleep that not even Camelia's screams could wake him up.

"Fynn!", Blanc called as she moved his body hard from side to side. "Wake up, honey! Good news!".

Some grunts could be heard before the man finally sat down, swollen eyes and red hair scrambled. Blanc didn't even wait for him to wake up completely when she was already crushing the letter against his face, exclaiming that he had to read that immediately. Prue now knew where had Camelia gotten her manners.

"Hogwarts...", Fynn muttered, with a lock of hair between his fingers, reading the letter over and over again like Prue had done. "Finally, they're going to Hogwarts...". He lifted his face, smiled at Camelia, and opened her arms. She jumped at him immediately. "My God, I can't believe it's time! Blanc, Hogwarts!".

"I know, honey," said his wife, and joined the family hug. They stayed like that for a moment, and then she tickled Camelia, who exploded in laughter.

Prue, still leaning against the doorframe, just stared at the scene as unpleasant as it seemed to her. She was glad she was far enough that Camelia couldn't pull her from one moment to the next to be among her parents. The girl's brain couldn't understand why they were making such a fuss over something that was obviously going to happen since both sisters had shown to have magic. That is to say, it had taken her by surprise because she thought it would arrive later, but it wasn't as if its arrival wasn't expected. Also, she thought as she watched Camelia wallow in the marriage bed, classes wouldn't start until about a month and a half, which made the emotion even more illogical. She supposed it was only the characteristic explosive happiness of her family.

Once they finished playing, Blanc gave a clap and decided that since everyone was awake, it would be a good idea to start the day at once. Camelia, a girl full of energy and desires to help, announced that she would go make the breakfast, and immediately went downstairs, humming a song very popular at that time. Prue for her part only sighed; she'd never liked doing things early, not because she was a lethargic child, but because she simply didn't like it. She used to have little energy. She muttered that she would go to make the beds and left her parents' room. They didn't even listen to her, since they were too busy hugging each other.

Entering her room, the girl yawned and thought that she probably could take a nap of an hour or so, just enough to recover a little of the sleep she hadn't had at night. After all, with all the excitement of the day, her parents would likely not notice her absence. Also, luckily, Camelia always took care that no one noticed.

"Lucifer", she whispered as she crawled to her bed, eyes already closing in search of the lost dream. From under the bed came a huge black cat with yellow eyes, so hairy that it looked even bigger than it was. It yawned and stretched its long body and then meowed and climbed to the bed with its owner, curling in her arms and purring under its breath. Prue stroked him lazily, sniffing the fur, which smelled of cranberries because it had only been bathed the day before, slowly slipping back to sleep, when her mother's voice came from below the stairs.

"Prudence, bring me the second letter from Hogwarts! Your sister left it near her bed!"

"Bloody luck," she thought. She didn't want to take anything to anyone, but she was obedient, so she yawned once more and let Lucifer lie under the covers before going to Camelia's room. It was all very neat, with the windows wide open already, flowers, and posters of pop singers. It was paint all purple and gave an aura of cleanliness and tranquility. Actually, all the rooms gave that feeling to Prue, who had a rather disastrous room due to the lack of interest in having something respectable. The girl just picked up the letter and took it to Blanc. By then she knew that she wouldn't have a chance to return to her bed, and her mood was getting even uglier because of it.

Downstairs, Blanc and Fynn were in the dining room chatting about something that Prue couldn't hear and honestly didn't interest her. The television in the living room was on, tempting Prue to sit down on her couch and be invisible all day. However, the smell that came from the kitchen led her to the dining room while her stomach growled with hunger. She gave the letter to Blanc without even receiving a "thank you" before sitting down at the other end of the table, completely separated from the places where the others sat.

"So many things to buy...", the woman murmured, eyeing the letter, a hand on her temple. Prue narrowed her eyes at that, wondering if they were going to the famous Alley soon. Apparently, Fynn was wondering the same thing.

"Can we go to Diagon this Saturday or do we have a commitment?"

He really had a bad memory. Another thing that bothered Prue. Blanc was a bundle of concern and over protection to Camelia, and Fynn an airhead. She didn't understand how that man had been in Slytherin, or her annoying mother in Hufflepuff. If it were not for the pictures in the hallway as evidence to prove such things, Prue would never have believed it.

"I think we were invited to a Camelia's friend's birthday party", Blanc answered. The aforementioned emerged from the kitchen at that time. She carried the plates and glasses in one hand, and the cutlery in the other. Prue went to help with it without need to ask.

"The party of a sister of a known one", Camelia specified once the table was set and she could start serving eggs and bacon. She made sure that Prue's plate had an extra portion, since the younger twin used to eat very badly, and breakfast was the only strong food she made. Three eggs, three slices of bacon and two of bread would keep her alive for that day. It was not the best, but Camelia couldn't force her to eat. "Although I sincerely prefer to go to the Alley, and I think Prue shares my opinion".

"Is that so, Prudence?", Fynn asked. The girl tilted her head, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She had never liked the parties of Camelia's friends because she was always bored among all those silly girls who were just as outrageous as her sister. Apparently her parents hadn't noticed. What a novelty.

"I vote for the Alley", she said, and began her breakfast. She noticed that Camelia had put extra bacon, just as she liked it.

"Please control your excitement", said Blanc sarcastically, making everyone laugh except Prue. "Come on, Vitali, at least smile a little", she suggested.

Prue was no fool, and experience had taught her that more often than what she could bear, her parents (especially Blanc) would only speak to her if it was to make a bad joke, and sometimes to order something about her favorite daughter. Therefore, if it had been possible, her already stoic face would have become more rigid at the mockery and the use of her hated middle name. She fixed her eyes on Blanc, who growled.

"So... we'll go on Saturday?", Camelia inquired in an attempt to distract the atmosphere.

"I'm not sure. Maybe it would be better in two weeks; After all, we've already committed in going to the party", Fynn said, looking for the ketchup. Camelia gave an expression of sadness: eyes of dog half-dead. "C'mon, Krys. Think about how much fun you are going to have with all your friends".

"True, but we shall try that the other girls don't get jealous for not being so pretty, right?", Blanc asked, winking at her daughter. She smiled, blushing a little and mumbling something to change the subject. The three of them chatted about other things, not even noticing that the youngest daughter was getting up and going to sit in the living room, deciding that it was better to be invisible than to have to endure the stupid things that came out of her parents' mouths.

#♤

Saturday came faster than expected.

Camelia was very excited: she had put on one of her many jumpers, along with the most comfortable sandals she found, so she could run and play in the party room without problems; she had tied her red hair in a braid that fell from her side and made her look even prettier than she already was. Blanc and Fynn told her this so many times that the girl was beginning to feel self-conscious.

For her part, Prue had dressed meticulously so that they couldn't send her to the games: She wore one of her short skirts, Doctor Martin's boots, and her wild hair fell freely over her shoulders. She knew that with that attire they wouldn't "let" her go to play, so her mood was not as bad as it could have been.

When the little family arrived at the party, after a quick greeting between the Callohway matrimony and the girls, both were sent to have fun. Camelia tried to take Prue to her friends and see if she liked any of them, but after five minutes of continuous screaming and yelping at the mention of, basically, anything, the grim girl could not take it anymore and looked for a table where she could sit down and be able to be as miserable as she wanted.

Why did she always had to go to places she didn't like? That was one of the things that angered Prue the most. She could stay at home, alone, and she wouldn't cause any disaster, and nothing bad would happen to her. She was a good girl; perhaps not very emotional, and cold with everyone, but after all, good. She never got into real trouble because most things didn't interest her enough for it. In fact, the worst thing she ever did (and the cause of Blanc putting her butt red) was when she tore the head of all of Camelia's dolls, moved partly by a desire to get revenge because she was naughty with Lucifer, and partly because of a morbid curiosity about how her twin would react. Later she promised to herself to not do it again, and not because of Blanc's punishment, but because of the screams Camelia did. She supposed she couldn't blame her; after all, they were only 8 years old.

Whatever it was, in those moments, Prue was especially irritated. If she couldn't stand Camelia when she was screaming, much less a bunch of snotty kids who only knew to do that. What was so exciting about going down the slide? Sure, the first time she did it felt funny and strange, but after that time, Prue found it a lot more boring. She could not understand how all of them were excited to go down it after ten times. She wrinkled her nose and decided to look away, fixing her piercing eyes on the adults, but avoiding seeing her parents. If she did, she would surely end up walking home alone, and since that was outside of London, it would take a long time and maybe be dangerous. Prue wasn't exactly happy with her life, but she wasn't going to take risks either.

In the end, seeing more to the nothing than the adults, the little girl began to think about what would come more than in the past and her disgusting present. Camelia had asked her a few days ago if she was happy, and she said yes, and she did not lie a bit. Going to Hogwarts was a promise that had much more meaning for Prue than for others. Not only was the fact that she would finally learn to do magic and a lot of other things from that world, but it would also be an opportunity to find, perhaps, a place to call home, a place to belong. Camelia had her home with her parents, in the nice house they had a few miles from London, but for Prue it was not like that. She still couldn't find that special place to feel loved, understood and safe, and thought that maybe Hogwarts would be the big winner. Maybe she would even find a friend or two, but being Prue, having friends was one of the things that drew her attention the least. She would always have Camelia, anyway, and that was enough for her.

She wondered what the classes and the teachers would be like. She knew that the famous Albus Dumbledore was the headmaster, but since she really wouldn't be in contact with him, she didn't care that much. She wondered what lesson that woman would give, Minerva McGonagall. Her name could only remind her of burgers. Maybe Potions?Camelia liked potions. She knew there was another class called Charms, and there was also Transfiguration. How she would love to learn Transformations. If it was not illegal, she thought with a tiny cruel smile, it would fascinate her to turn her parents into a pair of carpets so she could step on them all day long.

"Prue!", exclaimed a voice in her ear suddenly.The girl was out of her trance then, the dark thoughts disappearing, and noticed that her back was stiff from having been sitting in the same position for so long.She looked at the window, noticing that it had been at least a couple of hours, and then she looked at her twin with a raised eyebrow.Camelia was a little disheveled, her cheeks full of color probably from running around here and there.Her smile was huge."We found out how to get in behind the games, and it's all dark and creepy, and Mary says we should tell horror stories, and I thought of you because there's no one who scares more than you", she explained in a single breath, something classic in her. Prue raised her other eyebrow.

"Do you want me to tell horror stories to you and your friends? I'm not sure I'm getting away with that. I'll be scolded if someone urinates", she growled. Camelia rolled her eyes, amused.

"Let's go! I'll cover you with mom and dad. Please, Prue!", the redhead pleaded. Prue sighed, looked at her parents, and decided that she was never right with them anyway.

"Very well. But only one".

#♤

In every party there is a cake, and this was no exception. Prue was telling her fourth horror story, fascinated by having all those girls in suspense and absolute fear, enjoying their expressions of fright whenever a monster or ghost appeared in her story, when the adults began to announce that it was time to cut the cake. That broke the spell both in the girls and in their narrator, who liked very much cakes. In fact, she was the first to sneak out from the back of the games and approach Mr and Mrs Callohway with her plate ready. She was even willing to serve the cake if that gave her an extra slice.

Once they finished singing 'happy birthday' and the cake was delivered, the children were invited to gather in the center of the party room to make small games while they ate their dessert. All went without hesitation, except for two: The first, clearly, was Prue, who shrugged and went out into the tiny back garden of the place, eager to enjoy her cake alone; the second was Camelia, who noticed Prue walking away and sincerely wanted to go with her, but she also felt kind of a social commitment with her friends. She sighed and assumed that she could always talk to her later, and she also realized that Prue would enjoy more her cake being alone, because that was her way to be, so she went to sit with the other children.

Camelia's guess was not a bit wrong. Prue loved being alone, and she liked to do all kinds of things that way. In the garden was no one, so after a little thought, she went to sit on a swing and tried the cake, which was made of chocolate and milk, without being sweet enough to disgust the girl. A small smile adorned her lips, the kind of expressions she allowed herself to have when she was absolutely sure no one was watching her. Then she began to plan on asking for more, and if they didn't pay attention to her (as it could happen), she could always steal a piece. After all, she didn't have much trouble doing what was necessary to get what she wanted, and she was sure that Lucifer would love to try some cake.

#♤

The party ended at about eight o'clock at the same time as Prue's energy. She used to get quite exhausted after social gatherings, so she was falling asleep in the car while driving home. She looked out the window, watching the stars that little by little became clearer as they left London. She was sick to death of the sound of happy children, the smell of sweat and feet, and the garish colors they had in the party room; but now, on the way to her beloved bed and pet, Prue was calmer and more relaxed. Besides, deep down, the idea that she would soon be going to Diagon Alley for the first time was filling her with a feeling of warmth in her chest and a jumble in her stomach that she could only classify as excitement.

Her train of thoughts was interrupted when she felt someone sting her cheek. The girl stopped watching the stars and found, as she foresaw, Camelia looking at her with those pretty blue eyes. Prue blinked and stared at her, neither disinterestedly nor hostilely as she saw others, but with pure curiosity, as she only saw Camelia when they weren't fighting or playing. Her twin simply smiled at her calmly. That calm expression caught her attention and she sat up straight to look at Camelia, still without saying anything.

Strangely Camelia, who never stopped her mouth, was also silent. She just watched Prue, thinking... Her almost-eleven-year-old mind could not understand why Prue was so different. She herself had red hair, like her father, and blue eyes, like her mother. Her skin was a nice shade of peach, and she was tall for her age, just like her parents when they were young. She had the happy and positive nature of both, and the smile of mom. She was happy, just like them, like everyone she knew... almost everyone.

Her twin was small and minute, with pale blond hair that changed color to turn pink at the tips, a pair of large eyes with a green colour so deep that sometimes they looked black, and skin white as snow. Her parents said that she was identical to grandfather Lucían, of whom Camelia didn't have many memories, and whom they hadn't seen since they were about six years old; but the differences didn't end there. Prue almost never spoke, and the few times she did she had a way of expressing herself that was strange to her age, sometimes very serious and sometimes very romantic, almost too elaborate, recharged. But in general she was a prisoner of her thoughts, with such a stoic expression that no one could imagine what was going on in her mind. It was that same expression that she was using at that moment while they saw each other, and Camelia was dying to understand why Prue was so different not only from her and her parents, but to the whole world. But she was afraid to ask. She was afraid because she didn't want Prue to lose confidence in her, her only friend, and to feel completely alone.

When they got home, Prue raised an eyebrow and got out of the car without thinking twice. She started walking to the backyard, wanting to lie down on the grass and smell the roses, being followed by Camelia. They ended up lying together, watching the sky or even playing with their hands, but without saying anything, and it wasn't until after almost an hour that Camelia couldn't take it anymore.

"What do you feel?", she questioned. Prue raised an eyebrow. "That is, not only about Hogwarts and the Alley and all this, but in general, every day. What do you feel, Prue?".

"I do not know", the blonde said honestly after a few moments. Usually Prue didn't understand (nor bother to understand) her emotions. If they were very strong, she caught them instantly, but they were usually too passive and light. The wind carried them away as it would with a withered leaf.

"Why do you not show anything?", Camelia continued. Prue frowned.

"I don't know. I do not like it, I suppose".

"I cannot understand you", Camelia sighed, looking away, unable to resist the piercing green eyes anymore.

"I don't either", her twin admitted, staring at the stars again. Camelia sighed, and slightly insecure, hugged her cautiously, feeling her tense.

"I just want you to know that I don't care how weird you are, I love you, Prue", she whispered from the bottom of her heart. It didn't surprise her that Prue didn't respond, since she never did with things like that, but it still hurt a little. She held her for another second before letting her go. "I'm going to bed. Good night", she announced, and left.

Prue watched from that same place in the back garden the silhouette of Camelia in her room, doing whatever it was she was doing, until the lights went out. The girl then leaned back, ready to lose herself in her mind.

"I love you too, Cam", she whispered to nothingness, and closed her eyes.


	2. Among Ours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is established that Prudence likes slang expressions and attention, and has a duel in her feelings towards a certain blond.

 

 _"I'm protectin'!_  
_From what I don't wanna have to say!"_

 

Unlike most people she knew, Prue didn't like going to Diagon Alley. Her reasons were two: The first was that the girl was extremely bothered by being in agglomerations and, obviously, the Alley was always bursting with people. The stores could be a refuge if it wasn't because nobody wanted to have inside a girl who scared the clientele with her heavy aura, so Prue had no choice but to endure shoves, heat, footsteps and the occasional scream right in her ear.

The second reason was that she had to go with her family and that, from her perspective, was much worse than the former. Blanc and Fynn, before an exemplary marriage (if not for some negligence, a minor detail), had become something that Prue considered toxic: The couple went from being okay to fighting for nothing, and then again they were fine, something that put the blonde on edge because those spontaneous discussions used to affect Camelia, although the redhead never said anything for fear of making them worse. Besides the fights, of course, there was the fact that they still ignored their youngest daughter, but still they wouldn't let her go elsewhere. That detail was the one Prue most hated about "family outings."

That year was the same painting of the last two years: Adults were holding hands, very happy after being disgusted by Merlin knows what; Camelia, in front of them, smiled broadly and showed the world how happy she was in her perfect pink life; and at the far back, like a dog that is exhausted but still follows its master, was Prue. Usually Camelia kept her company, either talking about anything or just walking by her side, but in the morning they had had an argument about the fact that the redhead insisted on entering Prue's room without her explicit permission and the younger twin was still angry with her, so she didn't speak to her in the least.

The blonde, bored, wondered how long it would take for them to realize if someone kidnapped her. To tell the truth, the idea of being kidnapped seemed like something much better than her current situation.

"Oh, a Nimbus 2,001!", exclaimed Camelia suddenly, excited and looking at the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop. "I would like to be able to join the team... I would be the best player at Hogwarts! Well, after Harry, of course", she added, clasping her hands and smiling at the idea of playing. Prue wanted to say that with her current attention deficit she wouldn't join the team, but she bit her tongue and remained silent.

"Surely, sweetheart", Fynn said, ruffling the red mane of his favorite daughter. The girl smiled even more, making her twin wonder if it was painful to have that big grin on the face.

Prue's piercing eyes immediately caught Camelia's attention, thus she lost her smile and frowned a little.

"You okay, Prue? Is something the matter?", she asked. Prue couldn't believe she didn't realize she was still upset about what happened in the morning (and generally all). She was opening her mouth to tell her the truth when she noticed that her parents were looking at her for the first time all day: Fynn had a raised eyebrow and no expression on his face, whilst Blanc had pursed her lips.

"Nothing. I'm okay", the blonde whispered. Blanc's face relaxed, as did Camelia's, and the family continued as if nothing happened, talking about Quidditch and whether it would be wise for Camelia to try to enter her house team.

Behind them, Prue felt even more miserable than before. If she lied to Camelia about her mood, it was always because of the pressure that Blanc put on her. Of course, her mother couldn't care less if Prue was alright or not, but she became extremely angry if Prue caused Camelia displeasure. When she got angry, she used to leave Prue without dinner, take away her rights to watch TV or go out into the garden, or sometimes even forbid her to play with Lucifer. It didn't seem like that big of a deal, but taking into account that those things were the only things Prue did throughout the day at home, it was too much. She didn't like to stay silent, especially because only to Camelia she could tell how she felt due to her lack of friends and great distrust of everyone; but she liked it better to be able to dine. She already ate badly when she was on holiday.

"I think I should go look for Lucius", the girl muttered, more to herself than to her family. Fynn, however, managed to listen.

"Excellent idea! How about we look for the Malfoys, Krys? Don't you want to see Draco?", he asked with emotion, wishing that his daughter said yes so he could go see one of his best friends. Camelia, of course, nodded her head insanely.

"Let's go! I'm dying to see Draco... We couldn't talk in letters because he traveled out of the country and didn't have time for anything!", the girl screamed, jumping on the tips of her feet. Blanc looked discontented, but since she couldn't say "no" to her perfect daughter, she had to resign herself and accept that, at least for that afternoon, she was going to see that family that she liked so little.

Prue was extremely pleased to see Blanc angry.

They walked for a long time, peering into the stores that the Malfoys used to frequent in hopes of finding them there. They searched in Flourish and Blotts, Eeylops Owl Emporium, with Madam Malkin, even at the entrance to Knockturn Alley, but nothing. After about half an hour, they began to believe that maybe they had finished the purchases before them. Prue even peeked at Ollivander's, thinking that perhaps Draco wanted a new wand for any whim. The store was dark as usual, and Prue wondered what the interior looked like. She must have been one of the few wizards in England whose wand hadn't been manufactured by the owner of that store.

They were heading towards the ice cream shop, already defeated, when Camelia gave a little cry of joy. She ran into the potions shop, and her parents followed her without hesitation. Prue stayed a little behind, looking through the glass at the blond family, wondering what the hell they were doing in a store like that. As far as she knew, neither Lucius nor Narcissa practiced making potions.

The place smelled a lot like licorice and dragon blood, essences that Prue and maybe everyone related to, obviously, potions. She approached the two families, who were already greeting each other with joy. Camelia hugged Draco, while the four adults exchanged a few words. Blanc had the most false smile from her repertoire of false smiles. She was fortunate that neither Mr nor Mrs Malfoy were interested in her to notice.

"...also, don't think I'll forgive you so fast for not sending me a sad letter", was reproaching Camelia. Prue had to pass close to them first to reach the adults. She looked at Draco, who was looking back over Camelia's shoulder. She decided to be a good person and went on, avoiding telling her twin that it was a lie that he hadn't had time to send letters, since he had sent her up to two per week.

Prue never answered.

"Hello", she greeted as soon as she reached the spot where the adults were. Lucius immediately stopped listening to Fynn to see the girl, that attractive smile that caused chills to Prue, blooming on his lips.

"Hello, Prudence", he greeted, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles. He had always greeted her in that flirtatious way, more oriented to what a man would do with a woman, not a girl. "How have you been?".

"Very well, thank you. Hello, Mrs Malfoy", she said, traversing a bit between her parents and the Malfoys so she could greet the witch in a proper manner.

"'Narcissa', Prudence. How many times do we have to tell you that you can call us by our names? You're like part of the family", she exclaimed, placing aside her typical expression of displeasure to smile kindly at the girl. She thanked her, but it was clear that she wasn't going to stop talking to them in such a formal way. She wanted to be educated with the only people she respected outside of school for a change. She stood there, listening to Fynn's talk without interest, just waiting for them to go talk to Draco and Camelia so she could feel comfortable. While her relationship with the Malfoys was very similar to her relationship with her parents in the sense that Prue was distant and expressionless, she had the privilege that at least the Malfoys remembered her name and Lucius, even if for self-interest, tended to buy her many odds and ends. She liked the gifts.

Watching their joint reflection in the shop's window, Prue thought she could almost pass as a legitimate daughter of the Malfoys. Their hair was platinum, but hers was a pale blond that, in the right light and maybe if she had it better cared, would pass for platinum too... But with the tips on pink.

Seeing herself like that, Prue was comforted in thinking that unlike all the families she knew, both muggles and wizards, the Malfoys were the only ones who openly admitted that they liked her much more than Camelia. The first time they met, Prue was waiting for the old story: Her parents would introduce her and then take her out of the way, and then they would show Camelia and talk about how beautiful, intelligent, sweet and kind she was. Only this time the family in question didn't seem very close with the extroverted redhead twin. Rather, they were more comfortable with the presence of the small and serious blonde. On that first day, Lucius even decided to take Prue, and sooner than later, he had bought everything that the girl saw even with the slightest interest. She felt confused because no one had given her that complete attention before, but she didn't deny that she liked it. Since then their relationship had become closer and closer. Maybe too close.

"What are you doing buying here?", she asked as soon as her parents turned to greet Draco.

"Narcissa wanted to buy ingredients for a potion someone recommended her. Something about the hair, I believe", Lucius replied, looking at his wife. He saw her with an expression of affection.

The lie of the year in Prue's eyes.

"Really silly, but they insisted that I had to use it, so here I go. Wouldn't you like me to give you the recipe, Prudence? Although, in any case, you already have pretty hair", the woman said, stroking the mane of the green-eyed girl, and that caress was the only physical contact she'd had in months. Another lie of the year, according to Prue, because her hair was far from beautiful. She looked at one of the strands. She had it badly cut and it was beginning to look mistreated since she had to cut it herself, because her parents weren't interested in taking her to a hairdressing. She noticed that the tips were starting to open.

"I would like it, thank you", she answered. She didn't care about her appearance almost never, but she wasn't going to stop taking care of her health, however small it was.

"Have you finished buying Draco's things, Lucius?", Fynn asked, standing next to Camelia and with one hand on the young blond's shoulder. "Because we thought we could go for an ice cream later, in case you would like to join us".

Blanc shot a glance of annoyance to her husband.

"We're still missing some books", Narcissa replied, paying for her products. "That stupid thing, 'The Monster Book of Monsters'. I wasn't going to buy it for Draco... But Lucius insisted".

"I'm sure he can handle a book that bites fingers", Lucius replied, raising an eyebrow. Then he returned to his charismatic expression. "Why don't we buy what's missing together? The kids can go wherever they want to catch up, and we can too".

Camelia exclaimed that it was a great idea, and before anyone could say anything, the redhead had already taken Draco and Prue out of the store after agreeing that they shall see later in the ice cream shop. She pulled them for a good while until they were far enough away from the potions store, mostly to keep Prue from slipping back into the arms of that blond man who Camelia distrusted so much.

Bloody stupid, Prue always said, but there was nothing to do.

"You had to bring her?", Draco said, rolling his eyes and pointing to Prue. She didn't deign to answer, instead remained standing, like a statue, waiting for the other two to start the march and follow them.

"Don't fight, okay? Leave her alone, Draco, and you don't start with your slang, Prue. And let's go over there", Camelia said, distracting Draco enough to actually let Prue be.

Of course, among all the honey that was with the Malfoys, there was Draco. The firstborn of the marriage and the blonde had a strange relationship and many would classify it as toxic. It happens that Draco, jealous of the attention Prue received from Lucius, used to tease her and pick fights with her often; and although her name was "Prudence", the truth is that she didn't have any of it and she used to face the boy, and sometimes she was the one who started the tease. Despite this, deep down, they both liked each other's company, but they were too proud to admit it. They were what Camelia called "frenemies."

Whilst Draco and Prue fought over everything and anything, there was a special issue: Families. It was obvious to anyone who knew a little about the marriage that Blanc and Fynn didn't feel the slightest interest in their youngest daughter; and for Prue it was very obvious that Lucius wasn't exactly proud of his son. The jokes of those situations were constant and a taboo for anyone other than them or Camelia, who was the only one who could stop the discussion when the game "Lucius loves me more" became too heated.

However it was, Camelia and Draco, way more healthy friends, began to talk instantly about what they had done on vacation and what they should do when they arrived at the castle. Prue liked to be with them to some degree, so she was content to hear everything they said they would do, betting against herself what would really happen and what would not.

"We can put itchy powder in Saint Potter's underpants before a Quidditch match", the blond boy was saying with a mischievous smile. Prue didn't understand Draco's hatred of Harry. That is, if he had come to her with that impetus, started insulting Camelia and then proposed to be friends, she would have also tell him to bugger off.

"Ain't ya' forgetting that Harry is my friend?", Camelia asked with a smirk, digging her elbow into her friend's ribs.

"Precisely: You distract him and I put the powder on him", Draco replied. Camelia laughed, but shook her head. "Oh come on, why not? It will only be a little prank. Even Pennyworth would agree".

"I do not make pranks", Prue said from behind them. Draco gave her a contemptuous look.

"Yes, because your levels of bitterness must be infinite", he snapped. While they were rather rude with each other, something in the way he said it gave a bad spine to Prue, who wrinkled her nose. He said it not as a joke, but as something that is said to hurt.

"It's not like you have many levels of happiness in your life", she argued, more to tempt the water than because she wanted to respond.

"What does it matter to you? You're unbearable, Pennyworth", the boy replied, and turned to indicate that he was not going to hear anything else.

Prue wasn't going to answer anyway. Draco was definitely weird, and she didn't understand why. He had written normal, without informing her that something was bothering him or things like that. Would it be because she didn't answer the letters? It wouldn't make sense, since she had never answered. She only did it once, and it was precisely to tell the boy not to wait for answers since she didn't have much to tell, but that he could be sure that she would read them all. So, the blonde was more the kind of person who listens and understands, but she didn't say much about herself. In fact, not even her closest relative, Camelia, could say as such that she knew her; the world only knew what those deep green eyes wanted to show, and the truth is that they didn't want to show much. So there was no logic in him being a crybaby just because she didn't answer his letters, although who knows. There wasn't always logic in the feelings, and as stupid as it seemed, it was the truth.

"The pet shop!", Camelia suddenly yelped, pulling her out of her reverie. "Don't you want to go in, Prue? We could buy something for Lucifer. That way he'll be happier when he sees you".

The girl nodded, excited by the idea of buying a toy to Lucifer even if it already had hundreds (Prue used to spend what little her parents gave her in the cat and very rarely in her). She jumped into the store, now being the one who lead the way. She walked straight to the cats' area, carefully surrounding the place so as not to see the showcase of these animals. If it were for her, she would have adopted all the cats of the place; hell, all the kittens in the world. But she had nowhere to put them, and Lucifer was very jealous of its owner. That didn't prevent her heart from crushing whenever she saw a cat in adoption or in the streets, so she preferred to simply avoid them.

Prue stood in front of the toys' shelf, beginning to dismiss things in a systematic way that no one but her would understand. All that was kind of ritual, since she always did it when she needed to make a decision among many options. She made combinations of numbers, colors, styles and textures. It was something that, if they had asked her, she wouldn't be able to explain.

The ritual, by the way, took a long time. Draco and Camelia, standing in the main hall waiting for the blonde, began to get impatient after ten minutes. Camelia decided to try to rush the process and approached her sister. She took a rag doll that was stuffed with cat weed and showed it to her.

"What do you think of this, Prue? I'm sure Lucifer will like it", she suggested. The aforementioned gave her an annoyed look and said no because 'it did not coincide with the accounts'. Camelia turned to leave the doll in its place and returned, defeated, next to his friend.

"But who takes so much trouble with a cat so ugly and stupid?", exclaimed the boy. Camelia didn't answer, but she turned pale.

A few minutes later, Prue finally selected what she was going to buy: One was a white cotton mouse, and the other was a slippery fish with aromas that, supposedly, cats liked. The girl approached her friends, posing in front of Draco. She was smaller than him, reaching him a little over the shoulder, but still she was more intimidating. She showed him the mouse and then she tore off its head, which was easily released because of such a weak material.

"If you bloody say something about my cat again, you will follow, you little cunt", she threatened, and went straight to the counter to pay for both. Draco was silent, surprised at both the reaction and the swear word, and Camelia only sighed. She couldn't defend him when he had done something that, he knew well, made Prue very angry. She wasn't the type that threatened or did such things; no, she was rather lazy and let people talk, but she couldn't contain herself when someone got involved with Lucifer. It was simply a sensitive point, and no one was safe from her anger when they did something to the cat, not even Camelia.

After giving a few galleons for the toys and throwing a _reparo_ to the mouse, the young girl came out like a rocket from the store, losing herself among the people. Her irritability was beginning to take dangerous levels, and if Draco told her something else, she was probably going to beat the shit out of him right there. It'd happened before, and although the scolding from her parents didn't matter to her, Lucius' ones did. It would be better to retire, full stop.

#♤

At about six o'clock in the afternoon, the Alley became a very quiet place compared to the earlier hours. It happens that most people did the shopping in the early hours of the morning, so right into the afternoon, there were almost no people out there. That afternoon, in fact, the only ones seen on the main street of the Alley were the Malfoys and the Rhodes. Both families were sitting at the outdoor tables of the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop, chatting about different things in the magical world. Some time ago Camelia and Draco had grown bored with the adults' conversation, so now they were a few meters ahead, playing with their wands and having fun.

Sitting next to Lucius, at the end of the table, Prue watched them with interest. She wondered how it was possible for such opposite people to get along so well. Camelia was cute, kind and respectful, one of those people that you like almost immediately; Draco, on the other hand, was pedantic, spoiled and rude, and most people spoke to him only because of his last name. Their close friendship made no sense in Prue's mind.

'But nothing makes sense in my life', she thought bitterly as she glanced at her parents, an almost hurt look. Her eyes became sadder than usual for a moment.

"I'll give you a galleon for your thoughts, Prudence," Lucius' voice purred. It seemed that he was not very interested in the conversation that his friends were having at the time. Of course, he was usually more interested in Prue than in the others.

"I was just wondering how they are such good friends if they are so different", she muttered truthfully, fixing her eyes on the vanilla ice cream in front of her. Of all the flavors, that was the only one that she could bear. She could order chocolate, but she was afraid that it would be so sweet that she would lose her taste for the only sweet that she actually liked.

"Well, sometimes the opposite people are attracted by the simple fact that they seek, perhaps unknowingly, someone who complements them, no matter how annoying or different the other person is", explained the man, and Prue knew that the "annoying" was aimed at her twin. Lucius was perhaps the only person who directly admitted that Camelia wasn't at all his liking, and that's certainly why he looked with such aversion to the friendship of his son and the girl. "Don't you have a friend who is contrary to you, Prudence?".

"Not really. I do not have many friends", the girl replied. Besides Draco and, obviously, Camelia, Prue had only Harry and Hermione as friends, more or less, and whilst they weren't alike, she didn't consider them to be contrary.

"I see. Well, maybe it will also happen to you what happens with your sister and my son", concluded Lucius, perhaps somewhat uncomfortable to have touched the subject. She knew Prue a little more than the others, although what she knew wasn't exactly about her personal life.

"Do I have to finish it?", Prue asked with a pout as she played with the ice cream. Lucius chuckled and removed the dessert.

"No. If I'm honest, I don't like it very much either", he confessed. Prue smiled a little, between nervous and relieved. The man tapped her arm and she obediently snuggled against him. Lucius placed his arm around her shoulders, giving her a more comfortable position.

Across the street, Draco shot Prue a withering look. She ignored him, knowing that he was dying of jealousy. After all, she was Lucius' 'little girl'.

"By the way", Narcissa, who had already finished her red fruits ice cream, started. "Lucius and I have thought it would be a good idea for Prudence and Camelia to spend Christmas with us at the Mansion. The girls have never been on those dates, and it's sincerely beautiful".

"Of course", Lucius interjected, stroking Prue's hair, "you are also invited. There is enough space for everyone".

"Oh, it would be fantastic!", exclaimed Fynn, who was quite easily excited to this day. He was like a very tall child most of the time. "Girls can go, of course. I'm sure Draco will love the idea. Regarding us...". The man looked at his wife almost with fear. Blanc maintained a stoic face, almost as perfectly expressionless as her daughter's. "What do you think, honey?"

'Any plank', Prue thought as she glanced at her mother, 'would realize that she definitely does not want to'.

" I don't think we can. Remember we shall spend Christmas with Grandpa", she said in a falsely sad voice. She was a worse actress than a bad mother, and that was saying a lot.

Prue didn't usually go into the talks in which she wasn't invited or referred to as it was very rude, but at that time she couldn't tie her tongue. The fact that Blanc was using Lucian as a pretext, her paternal grandfather and the only relative (besides Camelia) who had ever shown interest and affection for her, made her hair stand on end and made her feel a kind of contained anger very dangerous, the same as when they messed with her cat. She couldn't stand that this woman used her grandfather to avoid a situation. She preferred to have to endure her on vacation.

"No", she interrupted before Fynn could speak. Her voice was low, but so imperious that everyone listened to it perfectly. Lucius even squeezed her shoulder a little, possibly to try to contain her somehow. "Grandpa shall spend Christmas with his friends in London. He told us in a letter. Have you forgotten, Blanc?".

The woman glared at her, but Prue hardly cared. Her mother and her punishments didn't scare her, and to be honest, it was more her parents who were a little afraid of her cold, disheartened daughter, who over the years had reinforced that character.

"Well, that's right", said Fynn. It seemed he had really forgotten the letter, and Prue didn't doubt that it was so. He still had the memory of a snail. "So we have no commitment!".

"Done, then", Lucius replied, and to celebrate he kissed Prue's head, who had a chill.

Just in those moments came back Camelia and Draco. They were smiling and took their seats right in front of Prue. Camelia dipped a spoonful of her hundred-flavored ice cream into her mouth. Lucius looked at her with something like disapproval.

"Why don't you stay the weekend with us? So we can go together to leave the children", he said in a purr, still glaring at Camelia.

"Cool!", the redhead exclaimed, and turned to Draco. "You can help me practice Quidditch! This year I do want to join the team".

Draco didn't answer. Prue imagined that it was because of the mixed feelings: On the one hand, he would have Camelia to chit chat and play everything he could think of, and Prue to bother at ease; on the other, however, he would see Lucius' favoritism to the blonde in first row.

"It will be a good weekend", Blanc muttered, sighing. Prue would almost be happy of how badly the woman would pass it at the Manor if it hadn't been that the Manor had become a dangerous place for herself.

#♤

After half an hour, Prue was on her way to meet with the families to leave the Alley at once. Bored of doing nothing and wanting to be alone, the girl separated from the group after Lucius gave her permission. Without hesitation, her first action was to try to get into Knockturn Alley, a place that since she was younger interested her, but no one would let her in and no one was willing to accompany her. She thought that this time she would be lucky, but an old witch sent her away, saying that an insignificant and idiotic brat like her shouldn't be in that place. Prue thought bitterly how even that woman thought she was insignificant. She considered herself that way, but she didn't like when people rubbed it on her face.

The first thing she saw while trotting down the street was Draco and Camelia, again together and alone. It seemed that they were talking about something they didn't want to be known because of the way they were together, as if trying to hide. And if there was one thing Prue liked to do, it was to know things, the more the better. Even if it was her sister's boring talks; it was a way to entertain. So she slipped in total silence until she was very close to them.

"Do you already know that there will be Dementors everywhere this year?", Draco commented to Camelia, catching Prue's curiosity. Of course, Draco knew a lot about that because Lucius had his contacts in the Ministry.

"That's horrible... It's because of Sirius Black, right?", Camelia asked. Of course, she was very innocent, but otherwise she didn't have a fool's hair. Not for nothing was a Ravenclaw.

"Yes, because of his connection to Saint Po-... Oh, you again", Draco interrupted himself just in time. He had turned to see behind him and ran into Prue, who walked without seeing them to adults, as if she didn't care what they said in the least. At least she made them think that, just as she wanted. If she was good at something, it was at pretending.

She passed the two friends, thinking. Hogwarts, Dementors, Sirius Black and a 'Saint Po-' that was undoubtedly a reference to Harry since Draco didn't call anyone else 'Saint'. She knew that Black was a famous murderer and a Death Eater, but she wasn't sure what that important connection to Harry was. It wasn't enough to have served Voldemort; there was something else, she knew it. It hit her in the nose.

She would ask Harry when classes started.

"Ready?", Narcissa asked as they all approached. The young ones nodded and after exiting the Alley, there was a massive Disappearance.

Prue, who was really bad at keeping her balance after disappearing, was helped by Draco to stabilize: With one hand around her waist, the boy blushed in an abnormal way, giving a very strange look to his face. Prue thanked him, intrigued by her friend's scared expression. He didn't answer, but opened the door of his house and ran inside, pulling Camelia by the wrist with him. The blonde could only raise one eyebrow.

After a few moments, when they settled into the living room and Lucius began to draw out the firewhiskey, Prue asked about her room. The man indicated that she could take the one next to the main bedroom (which was, of course, where he and Narcissa slept). She nodded, slapping her forehead as she walked up the stairs. Of course it would be that one; the closer, the better. He was a cunning fox.

Usually the guests needed a guide to move around the Manor, especially on the second floor, but Prue knew the place well enough. Unlike Camelia, she had an exceptional sense of direction and a good memory helped her remember the location of all the rooms in the place.

At last in the room, the girl noticed that the house elves hadn't been slow to go for some changes of clothes for her, as well as her trunk and other things that she would need to Hogwarts, which were at the foot of the bed. She sighed. Slaves or not, those creatures were very useful. She would like to have one. Maybe that way she could afford lying on the bed all day long, wasting life time to feel lile it was shorter.

Prue took off her clothes and decided to take a long bath, so she went to prepare the water and, sooner rather than later, she was submerged up to her chin in steaming water in the small bathroom. She'd taken the liberty of go through the drawers to look for salts, and she relished having found a lot of them. At last she felt relaxed after that long day.

Looking at her pale feet, and feeling her muscles stretch and relax, Prue began to let go. She wondered if she would be as lonely when she turned an adult. Probably yes, and even though it wasn't a thought that actually bothered her, it made her sigh. At times like these was when she missed Lucifer the most, that huge black cat that had been with her longer than her parents. She had left him at Hogwarts because he liked the castle very much, plus he and Mrs Norris got along very well. Filch had promised to take care of him. The man deserved more company, or at least that's what she thought should be. Usually she didn't trust anyone to care for her cat, but Filch loved Mrs Norris, and if she loved Lucifer, Filch too.

Observing a lock of her blonde hair floating beside her, she wondered if she would one day marry. She imagined herself in a rich marriage like the Malfoys, or perhaps in one like her parents'. Then she realized that they were both fucked up in their own way. Her parents blamed her for many things that she wasn't related to, so she didn't believe she was the core of their problems; but she knew firsthand that she was a factor between Lucius and Narcissa, even if Narcissa didn't know it.

Prue was so submerged in her thoughts (and the water) that for a moment she didn't notice a small elf that had appeared in the center of the bath, which caught her attention by her shrill voice.

"Excuse me, miss", she began. Prue looked at her over the edge of the tub. "The Master ordered me to inform you that the dinner will be served shortly, so you must be ready by then".

"Thank you", she said, and the elf disappeared.

Prue decided that she could drown all night in the tub if she wanted to, but for now she wanted more food, so she dried and dressed quickly with the first thing that was at hand, which turned out to be one of the sweatshirt-skirt sets what Lucius liked so much. Adequate, no doubt. She dried her hair a little, enough so that it would not drip, and left the room.

In the corridor she ran into Camelia, who by some miracle was without Draco. Her twin looked at her strangely.

"And where are you going so neat?", she asked. Prue blinked and after putting the pieces together (Camelia going to her room and asking where she was going), she supposed that the 'Master' hadn't bothered to inform her sister.

"To pig-out, where else?", Prue answered, as if nothing.

"My goodness, Prue", Camelia rolled her eyes, annoyed by the slang. She then shrugged. "I thought we would have dinner later... I think even Draco didn't know!".

Prue felt somewhat uncomfortable and sad to know why she had so many attentions in the Manor, but she was also happy. Guiltily happy to be Lucius' favorite. Her contentment came from the fact that, at least for one person in the world, she was better than the perfect Camelia.


	3. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is established that Prudence accepts her loneliness, but isn't happy about it, at least not completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Raping themes. Nothing explicit, but the reference is there.

_"I think I worry a lot,_  
_I need to take it easy"._

  
  
Even in a bed as comfortable as the one she had at Malfoy Manor, Prue had trouble sleeping. She spent much of her first two nights tossing and turning in bed without being able to sleep a wink, her mind full of thoughts that went from the most vain ("Why do I have freckles if nobody in the family has them?") to the most important ("Is Lucifer missing me?"), but with none to give her rest. The worst thing, in her opinion, was when she fell asleep to wake up a couple of hours later, which exhausted her even more. She preferred to not sleep at all.  
  
That desire was fulfilled her last night, although this time it wasn't because Insomnia was doing her magic. Rather, it was because the poor girl was tense and terrified. What was the cause of her fear? Nothing less than Lucius Malfoy, who was lying next to her sound asleep, while the girl was lying on her back, totally unable to sleep. She wanted to get up to take a shower and remove everything that was on her, and over all she wanted to rinse her face, which was sticky due to the dry roads that her tears made a while ago; but she couldn't do it. How would she do that? Lucius didn't like her getting up without his permission, she knew it well, and she didn't want to make Lucius mad.  
  
So she stayed very still, barely breathing, panicked to wake up her companion. The man had invaded her room a few hours ago, doing what he wanted as usual. Prue didn't resist, she wasn't stupid. She knew that, one way or another, she would end up like that, full of sweat and other fluids on her body, besides her head hurting from so much crying, and it was better to stay loose and close her eyes, think about the Queen of England or something like that. There was no point in opposing. It wouldn't change anything but Lucius' temper, and if normally he was already dangerous, angry was much worse.  
  
When those situations happened, Prue felt all kinds of emotions, some that she hated more than others, but the main one was always a horrible hopelessness since she knew she had no escape. Who would believe a brat like her that the respected Lucius Malfoy had done something to her? Nobody, obviously. She didn't had her parents' support, not even joking; she couldn't talk to the Hogwarts' professors either, who would surely think she was looking for attention; and even if Camelia could believe her, and even if Camelia said something, no one would believe the redheaded girl either.  
  
"Stop playing along the silly games of your sister, Camelia Krystel Rhodes."  
  
...It didn't matter, it was just something else in her life. Part of the job. It would pass. That was always what she said to herself, and although it didn't make her feel better, it was the only thing she could do to not going completely mad.  
  
A pale ray of sunlight began to sneak through the window, illuminating her naked body, unable to warm the cold skin or serve as a comfort. If Prue knew Lucius, and she did, she knew that soon he would wake up and begin to prepare for the day before him, which agenda began by leaving her and his son (oh, and the annoying ginger punk) in King's Cross. The man was an early riser, and not for having a fun time last night he was going to break his routine.  
  
Something warm, something that wasn't the caress of the sun, touched her abdomen, startling her. The hand stretched to hold her waist and draw her a little closer to the owner, confusing the blonde. Lucius wasn't an affectionate lover (if one could call "lovers" to their relationship), and he had rarely embraced her, if he had ever really done it. The feeling, strangely, made her feel more uncomfortable than everything else.  
  
"Good morning, Prue", the man purred, looking at her with half-closed eyes. Prue turned her head to her right to see him, feeling her neck crack. She looked at his grey eyes, his face. She hated to admit that he looked disgustingly good with his hair so messed up. He was an attractive man, there was no point in denying it.  
  
Monster or not, he was.  
  
"Hello", she greeted. Her voice was hoarse and her throat ached a little for things she didn't want to think about.  
  
"You look good for someone who has just woken up, especially when you hate waking up", he commented, circling his thumb on her side. The contrast between the temperature of the hand and the girl's skin was enormous, and Prue didn't like it in the least. She just stared at him;"although you always look good. But anyway, we better get up now: We have to shower, have breakfast, and go to King's Cross. The elves will take care of the luggage".  
  
Prue was dying to get up and take a shower, to let the clothes and social rules separate her from that man once again, but Lucius' arm kept her from moving. She nodded.  
  
"Who is going to take the bathroom first?", she asked.  
  
When Lucius smiled at her, and in his eyes crossed a shadow of perversity and desire, the blonde's face remained undaunted, although inside she felt her being tremble.  
  
#♤  
  
King's Cross was very similar to Diagon Alley in the sense that it was bursting and also in the apathy that Prue felt for it. She walked beside Draco, who had ignored her since morning, by the way, something that had her mood on the floor. In addition, people had already stepped on her three times, making her eyes sparkle in the middle of her stoic face. Most people tried to avoid her now, including her companions. Not even Lucius felt the urge to approach her, and he was the one who least respected her mood.  
  
It didn't take long to reach the area where the third graders were boarding. Prue stood next to the train, impatient to leave, watching the warm farewell between Camelia and her parents. There were kisses and hugs and sweet words. She didn't feel envious; on the contrary, she was relieved that she wasn't being hugged and smooched, which disturbed her. Wasn't she supposed to feel at least a little fondness for her parents?  
  
She looked at the Malfoys then. Narcissa gave her son a hug, much less euphoric than the one from Fynn to Camelia, while Lucius said something she didn't hear nor have interest in listening. She tilted her head slightly, curious at the way Draco seemed to expect more than words from his father, but without getting anything. Sometimes she felt sorry for him.  
  
After saying goodbye to Draco, the blonds approached the girl and without pronouncing a word they said their goodbyes: Narcissa ruffled Prue's hair and gave her a smile, and Lucius kissed her on the forehead. In return Prue couldn't help but blush a little, something that the couple took as her farewell.  
  
"Good luck, and don't do anything bad!", Blanc exclaimed as the children finally climbed onto the train. Prue lost no time and began to move among the other students, looking for an empty compartment.  
  
"I'll try to keep Prue away from trouble!", she heard Camelia say with a laugh, which made her frown. It was usually Camelia who put them both in trouble: One for doing something bad, and the other for trying to defend her with her big mouth. Prue always said that she wasn't going to help her anymore, but she knew it was a lie.  
  
A few seconds later, the other two teenagers reached Prue while greeting their friends and acquaintances. Prue didn't have any, so following her was difficult, but not impossible. They were fortunate that the corridor was crowded enough to slow down her lead.  
  
At some point Draco separated from the girls by stepping into a compartment where several of his fellow Slytherins were, including Crabbe and Goyle. The twins would have entered with him and spent the trip like this. Camelia wasn't bothered almost never because she was a friend of the blond, and most of Draco's friends preferred not to mess with Prue, probably because they had already seen her beat the boy. The problem was that another of the people there was Pansy Parkinson, Prue's enemy, and she made it clear that she wasn't going to share the long road to Hogwarts with her. Camelia didn't put up any resistance mainly because she didn't get along well with Parkinson either, although they usually ignored each other.  
  
The girls kept walking. The older one complained about the frizz on her hair caused by so much heat and Prue tried to find a place with bearable people, because she knew that there wouldn't be a single empty compartment anymore. They were at that when they came across two people who, at least for the green-eyed one, were unknown. One of them was a Ravenclaw, like Camelia, and she was also blonde; her eyes were dreamy and for whatever reason that bothered Prue. The other one was a Gryffindor boy that Prue recognized because she once had a Snape's Detention with him, but she didn't remember his name.  
  
"Hi guys!", Camelia chirped, greeting enthusiastically. They responded equally happy, engaging soon in a conversation to which Prue didn't pay even the slightest attention. The girl stepped aside to let other students pass, entertained as she played with her feet, waiting patiently for her twin to finish speaking so they could continue the search. In her insides she felt somewhat guilty for not saying hello, but she supposed they wouldn't mind. Not that she was rude on purpose, but she felt that she was so annoying for everyone that it was best not to force something. Also, she was a bit shy, but she hated to admit that.  
  
For being absorbed, when she realized what was happening, it was too late: Camelia pulled her by the arm while talking animatedly with her friends about things that had no meaning in Prue's mind, and she continued feeling confused until finally the four got into a compartment that already had the things of the other two students. They all took a seat, Prue facing the Gryffindor, and everyone stared at her, which caused her to raise an eyebrow. She didn't like the attention very much.  
  
"Usually she's not this rude", Camelia said, not taking her blue eyes from her sister's face. She looked at her: She was amused. It was as clear as the day. "Say hello, Prue".  
  
"I have no idea who they are", Prue said after a few moments, as she held out her hand to both of them, causing Camelia to roll her eyes.  
  
"How come you don't know? They are my best pals! She's Luna Lovegood, and he's Neville Longbottom", she explained with an applause. Camelia always liked to introduce people to Prue, although the younger twin rarely spoke with one of her friends again. "Gosh, Prue, you should start paying more attention to the people surrounding you".  
  
"I am not interested in meeting people with whom I should share space, unless they owe me something", Prue answered whole-heartedly. She was just like that, lonely by nature and without the slightest interest in having anything remotely close to a social life. She knew the staff and she felt that that was enough. The only other students she knew were the ones who got involved in the spiciest gossips at school. "Besides, they are not even from my house. How am I supposed to know them?".  
  
"That's how weird she always is", said the older twin. Lovegood looked like she was having fun, whilst Longbottom was a little blushed and with a rather nervous smile. "Anyway, since you don't know how to socialize and you're going to have to stay here with us the whole trip, we should talk about something that at least interests you. That is, the classes. Which ones did you choose for this year?".  
  
There was a short and uncomfortable silence, at least for Prue. She didn't like to talk about herself, even less with strangers, so she didn't want to say anything until she couldn't escape from it anymore. The silence continued until Lovegood's soft, almost sleepy voice was heard.  
  
"I chose Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes; although I don't think that in Care we are taught all the creatures that really exist", she added, playing with her collar of radishes. Prue looked at it curiously, amused by the extravagance and annoyed by the ridiculousness. "I also signed up for the Art class. Dad says stimulating the imagination is an exercise that we should always practice".  
  
"Brilliant! I would have entered that one, but the arts aren't quite my thing", Camelia confessed, a faint shade of red staining her cheeks. Surely she was remembering that time in elementary school that she tried to draw Blanc and everyone thought it was a sack potatoes with holes. It was humiliating, and even Prue had to put up with the urge to laugh when she saw it. "What about you, Neville?".  
  
"Oh... Care of Magical Creatures as well, and Divination and, well, I want to see how I do in Arithmancy", said the boy. He scratched his ear, his right leg bouncing non-stop. Prue had never seen someone so anxious. "But I don't think I'll stay much in that last one... They say it's very difficult".  
  
"Who told you that, George Weasley? For him two plus two must be difficult", Camelia teased, although she didn't mean it. The Weasley family was one of her favorite families, and she got along particularly well with Fred and George. "I'm sure that we would take it together, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor I mean, so I could always give you a hand".  
  
The redhead looked at her sister then, blinding her with that smile that the other knew well. That 'I'm about to mess with you' smile.  
  
"And you, Prue? Or are you going to change all the hours of new subjects for private classes of Potions?", she asked, pinching her twin's cheek and pulling. Prue took her hand off and massaged her face, hurt.  
  
"I am not bad enough to need that", she growled, but she knew it was a terrible lie since she was more than disastrous in a class that, ironically, was her favorite. For example, just on holidays and with the help of Camelia (the best of the class along Hermione), she had successfully made a Cure for Boils Potion, and that was the first potion that Snape taught to first graders. That is, it took her two years to learn how to do something that simple. The quantities were forgotten at once, she mixed rather strong or rather flabby, her portions were far too big or were turned to dust...  
  
It was frustrating, actually. Sometimes she wanted to practice and do it better, memorize the potions; but she didn't have enough motivation. She didn't see the point.  
  
Camelia knew it and laughed.  
  
"You are the worst of the worst. Even Neville does it better! But, in any case, I didn't suggest that you do it to improve on Potions, but to be with your sweetheart Snape", the other exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.  
  
"He's not my sweetheart", the blonde snapped instantly, annoyed. Camelia had the idea in that big head of her that Prue had a crush with Snape, when it was nothing like that. It was true that she felt something for the man, but it wasn't attraction or something akin. She simply admired him and to a certain degree felt identified: Severus Snape was cold, serious, sarcastic and with a humor as black as his eyes; exactly like Prue. He also didn't seem to get along very well with the world, something that made her feel less alone. At least she wasn't the only weirdo. "And before you continue, let me tell you that I chose Arithmancy, Divination, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. I also signed up for the Art's and Ghoul Studies' subjects", she recited, looking almost pleased. Prue loved to learn things. She liked above all to have her mind occupied, because when not, the thoughts didn't tend to be happy ones.  
  
"I've never heard of this 'Ghoul Studies', who imparts it?", Neville asked softly. When Prue's green eyes fixed on him, the boy almost regretted talking. However, Prue's response wasn't rude nor angry, as he expected.  
  
"I have no Danny. It is not a very popular subject", she admitted. Camelia gave her a little slap on the head at the slang (she hated when Prue used them, saying she sounded quite vulgar) and then began to make crazy theories, saying she was certain that a vampire was the one imparting the class, which, although Prue would have liked, seemed impossible.  
  
Her sister's talk continued, boring Prue sooner rather than later when she started talking about gossip she already knew and Lovegood said something about non-existent bugs that altered people's behavior. So, turning a deaf ear, the blonde concentrated on looking out the window at how the wooded and sincerely beautiful landscapes were going by. She was between excited and melancholy at the thought that it wasn't long before she arrived at Hogwarts, which meant two things:  
  
On one hand, the good side, Prue would have the opportunity to be in what she considered her home. She would return to classes, to Quidditch, and to her beloved Lucifer. She was already wanting to fight with Draco until one of the two asked for mercy (and it was always him, because he was a crybaby), and to make Snape go mad with her ineptitude with the potions. To dine mashed potatoes (her favorite) every night, and to explore the castle until she memorized each stone. That they would leave her tons of homework so that her mind could be distracted, and to talk about dark things with The Baron. Many called Hogwarts their home, but Prue was one of the few who really felt that way. What excited her the most that year was the Care of Magical Creatures class, since to be so distant from humans, her connection with animals was much stronger and she was a natural handling them. She was dying to know the unicorns.  
  
On the other hand, the bad one, she would return to the hostile environment of her house. Prue wasn't the only girl at school who preferred to be alone, obviously, but unlike those few other students, she was quite well known and therefore quite bothered. Half Slytherin repudiated her and treated her in an aggressive-passive way (and perhaps it was slightly her fault because she was one of those 'brutally honest' persons, and there were a lot of sensitive students), and the other half believed that it was very funny to annoy her and harass her through the corridors, making bad jokes, seeing who could make her snap faster. The tradition died a lot in the middle of second grade because one day someone managed to make her explode after messing with Lucifer and casting a spell on both of them, so that student spent almost a week in the Infirmary due to the beating that Prue gave him, followed by a harmless curse but done rather well by someone so young. If they didn't expel her was only because there were witnesses that the blonde was just defending herself and her cat, although she still had a month and a half of Detention with Snape, cleaning cauldrons, and helping Filch during the weekends, who luckily liked her and was happy that she defended the cat ("I would have killed them if they managed to do something to Mrs Norris", he said). Anyway, by the end of the year, people were harassing her again, but nobody dared to mess with Lucifer.  
  
Prue sighed, leaning back a little on the seat. She decided that it was useless to be a killjoy with herself, so she closed her eyes, ready to sleep what she hadn't slept over the weekend. Later, she would reproach Malfoy for leaving her alone with Camelia and her friends, and worse, for changing her for Parkinson.  
  
#♤  
  
"We are getting there!", exclaimed a voice in the distance, causing Prue to stop the dragon she was riding and look behind her, through the black clouds and the smoke caused by the fire, looking for the owner of that voice, forgetting the rage and anger she felt. She wanted to see those blue eyes, that lovely smile. Those that calmed her down and made her stop with her almost genocidal ideas. "Wake up!".  
  
Green eyes opened to meet Camelia's blue eyes, who shook her from side to side. She blinked a couple of times, stretched, and looked out the window: The night had fallen, the stars were already shining brightly, and Hogwarts was rising there in the distance, though it was approaching at great speed.  
  
"Good evening", her sister greeted as she put on her uniform. Prue also got up and started looking for the cloak. She used to wear it only when the journey was about to end because she had the bad habit of getting wrapped in it and the fight to untangle was humiliating. Once she found it, her sleeping brain noticed that they were alone again, which was a relief.  
  
"Hello", she greeted back. "I imagine that your friends got tired of listening to you prattle and decided to run away while they could".  
  
"Ah, ha ha, how funny you are. Did you dream about Snape to wake up in such a good mood?", Camelia answered, beating her arm as if she were angry, although the smile was still on her face. "They left a couple of hours ago, when the Dementors got on the train. Luna went to find I don't know what bug that supposedly follows the Dementors, and Neville wanted to go see how his Gryffindor companions were. Fred and George... Yes, I know you like them as much as you like the flu", she interrupted herself when she saw Prue roll her eyes, "but I need to talk about something or I'll explode, you already know me. Anyway, they came here, and...".  
  
"Did you say that Dementors got into the train?", Prue asked when her half-asleep brain processed that, puzzled. "Why?".  
  
"Well, I don't know, but something chased'em away with something that looked like a ball of light. You should have seen it, it was horrible but great. Although well, you were deep in sleep, and that's wonderful", replied the redhead. She knew that Prue suffered from sleeping problems, so when she managed to close her eyes, Camelia let her do it peacefully and without interruption.  
  
The green-eyed girl on her part was relieved to have been asleep when the invasion happened. She didn't know how much the Dementors would affect her, but she preferred not to know. That is to say, as far as she knew, the Dementors fed on one's happiness, and it's not that she wanted to be dramatic, but...  
  
"Draco came to see you?".  
  
"Oh, yeah. He said he was going to paint your face, but then he said he shall on another occasion", Camelia answered. Prue rolled her eyes again and decided that she had talked enough with her sister, so she sat back down and fell silent, simply waiting for the train to stop and go "pig-out". She was hungry, very hungry, as she always was when she returned from vacation. Her mouth was watering to think that she would eat tons and tons of her beautiful mashed potatoes.  
  
Camelia, who wasn't a fanatic in the slightest of silence, cleared her throat.  
  
"Lately he's spendin' a lot of time with Parkinson, have you noticed? Draco, I mean...".  
  
Prue narrowed her eyes, a little annoyed. From the end of the second grade, Draco had started to spend more together with Parkinson than with them, and that made the blonde's hair stand on end. Apparently he was still in the same steps. What if that's why he had acted so rude to her all weekend? After all, Parkinson hated her, so it was logical that, to impress her, Malfoy was treating her the same way.  
  
"Indeed. Maybe he wants to be his squeeze", Prue said. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of Pansy and Draco kissing. She had nothing against couples and their displays of affection, as long as they were not in her field of vision or hearing. She still remembered the time she heard strange noises coming from one of the dungeons and later saw a couple of lovers touching each other through the clothes. Prue didn't understand what happened that time since she was only eleven years old, but now that she had knowledge of sex, the idea of her friend doing that was almost revolting.  
  
"I see you, Prudence Vitali Pennyworth. Draco is still too young for that, don't you think?", Camelia groaned. There was that spark of knowledge in her eyes, for there was no one in the world who could read the subtle and almost invisible expressions of the face and, above all, the eyes of her twin. In those moments, the emeralds of Prue shouted the forbidden word.  
  
The blonde shrugged.  
  
"The ones I saw dry humping each other were close to fifteen and thirteen", Prue refuted, and to make her sister understand that she didn't feel like speaking, she pulled up the hood of her cloak and closed her eyes.  
  
#♤  
  
Twenty minutes later, Prue was meandering (literally, she looked like a snake by the way she moved) between groups of students to be able to climb one of the floats that led to the castle. Camelia went after her, saying that she could go up with her, Neville and Luna, but the blonde refused flatly.  
  
"I do not like your friends", she said, staring at Camelia with piercing eyes, "so it is better not to have uncomfortable moments. Also, I am sure they do not like me either. Now, be kind enough to let me go".  
  
And Camelia did, wishing her luck, without pressing the matter anymore. The other nodded and continued on her way until she finally managed to sneak into a float where there were three girls talking in such a loud voice and about something so interesting (at least for them) that they didn't even notice their stowaway. Prue watched them, her gaze attracted to the one who spoke more clearly and beautifully. She calculated that she must have been one, maybe two years older than herself; she had dark skin and had black hair and eyes, painted lips and a lovely smile. A sincerely beautiful girl who, to not lose the habit, Prue didn't like. The next thing she noticed was that she had the Slytherin cloak, so she made a mental note to avoid stumbling upon her. It seemed strange to her that she didn't know her or her two companions (a pair of identical Asian twins) taking into account that she had had encounters with the majority of Slytherin, but she supposed that they were 'in' girls who cared more about their nails than annoying a brat like her.  
  
Before the carriage stopped completely, Prue hopped down, feeling for a second in a James Bond movie, and climbed the stone stairs all alone, her lips pursed. It was the first time that Draco decided to start the year without her, and she somehow felt relatively abandoned. She wanted to be angry, but she knew that her eyes reflected sadness. More than normal.  
  
She shook her head a little: So what? Either way, she was more comfortable without Malfoy pulling her hair or pinching her ribs. She frowned.  
  
Upstairs she noticed a red mane moving from side to side in the same place, apparently dancing. Camelia had managed to arrive before in a inexplicable way, and was waiting for her. She approached.  
  
"There you are!", she squeaked when she saw her. Prue expected her friends to be out there, but she was as alone as herself. "C'mon, I didn't want to enter the castle without my sis".  
  
Prue didn't answer, but she blushed a little at that simple sentence. When Camelia said things like that, in a natural way, she reminded Prue that maybe she wasn't as alone as she thought. The girl was so unaccustomed to samples of true affection that even small details made her feel overwhelmed. Whether Camelia knew it or not, she never commented on it.  
  
The twins entered the castle in silence and stopped when they reached the doors of the Great Hall since, once they entered, each one would have to go in different directions: Camelia to the right, to Ravenclaw, and Prue to the left, to Slytherin.  
  
"It seems that your house is ready to separate us this year", murmured Camelia, momentarily losing her smile and pointing to a place among the other students that were arriving. Prue followed the direction of her finger and her eyes met Alfred LeBlanc, the supposed best friend of Camelia and one of the few with whom Prue spoke. He was accompanied, among others, by Pamela Anderson, a Slytherin girl and best friend of Pansy.  
  
It happens that it was no secret that Anderson despised Camelia, being her enmity almost as legendary as Malfoy and Harry's, and the new way she had to annoy the redhead was by being behind LeBlanc all day. The worst thing is that LeBLanc believed that Anderson wanted him in some sentimental way, as the blonde had noticed. She didn't like Anderson, but she had to admit that she had been very smart (and cruel) in punching Camelia right where it hurt the most.  
  
"I can keep her away, if you want me to", Prue proposed. Although Anderson didn't mess with her because she felt something close to dread for her, Prue didn't like that she dared to mess with her sister.  
  
"And how would you do that?", the other asked almost mockingly. Prue fixed her gaze on her.  
  
"I have my ways", she said cryptically. Camelia recalled the curse that she once threw to a boy from her house and for which she was almost expelled if not for the intervention of the head of her house and herself, so she felt a chill. She didn't want Prue to get in trouble again.  
  
"Nah, it's fine. You'll see how he will forget about her", she said, rolling her eyes. Prue wanted to tell her that since last year they were like that and she had said the same thing, but she bit her tongue.  
  
"Very well then, until tomorrow. I shall pass for you to the tower", the green-eyed girl announced. Camelia gave her a hug and then both passed the doors, each one going to her house.  
  
Prue sat down in her usual place next to Crabbe, who greeted her with red ears and to who Prue hardly paid attention throughout the year. The girl greeted him vaguely and then observed the teachers' table. Her eyes wandered around the staff, stopping briefly at Dumbledore and McGonagall, who chatted pleasantly; then she ran into Hagrid sitting there, whom she greeted with more energy than usual, her gesture being answered by a big smile; she continued to watch until she reached the end, where the two most interesting teachers of the year sat. One, who she supposed would be the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, looked sick because of his pale skin and extreme thinness. He smiled weakly but kindly, chatting with Professor Sprout from time to time.  
  
The last one was Severus Snape, with stoic face and cold eyes, just like always. He didn't talk to anyone and in fact he seemed uncomfortable because of the man who was sitting next to him. Without noticing, Prue stared more time than she should, so sooner rather than later her penetrating gaze was felt by her teacher, who turned his head in her direction. The girl turned around just in time so he couldn't catch her on the spot. She didn't know what got into her, she just didn't want him to notice. That had never happened to her, but now it did, and she had no idea why. It had been like a reflection, and the consequence was her cheeks turning a bit pink.  
  
Draco didn't arrive until the final minutes before the selection, accompanied by Pansy. Both were talking loudly and laughing at everyone who was passing by, and when they sat in front of Prue, neither of them paid any attention to her. She rolled her eyes unable to contain herself, feeling silly for being so sensitive. Although, who could blame her? Draco had been more than strange the whole weekend.  
  
The selection began and Prue looked with little interest at the new children entering her house, and in the same way she took most of Dumbledore's early-year announcements. Only two of them interested her: The first was the news that Hagrid would be their new Care of Magical Creatures teacher (all Gryffindor applauded, and Prue was one of the few Slytherins who did too); the second was that the castle would be guarded all year round in case Sirius Black wanted to stick his nose out there, and Prue remembered that she still had to talk about it with Harry.  
  
During dinner, Prue served herself her typical ten tons of mashed potatoes, wondering where the hell Lucifer would be since he hadn't gone out to meet her. The girl tried to ignore as much as she could Malfoy and Parkinson, but when Anderson joined then, she felt she was dying, dramatic as always. Luckily for her, The Bloody Baron decided to keep her company, sitting next to her and diminishing the volume of the chattering around her, as everyone in Slytherin still felt intimidated by their own ghost.  
  
When bedtime came, Prue was the last one to leave the Great Hall, and with the Baron as her only companion. He escorted her to the entrance of the Common Room, and before he left, Prue thanked him. Then she went inside and went up to her room, deeply happy that she slept apart from the other girls in her house. She had earned that honor after insisting enough with Snape, who in turn had spoken to Dumbledore, who gave permission perhaps because he didn't want any more trouble between her and the other girls. It was very common for her classmates to steal her underwear and cut it, or replace her things with knives and scissors in a very bad joke about 'depressing people like you should use this regularly'. A couple of times Prue had taken revenge by displaying the underwear of her companions in the Great Hall, or simply by having Lucifer show them what were really sharp artifacts.  
  
And speaking of cats, as soon as she opened the door, a ball of black hair rushed at her.  
  
"Hello Lucifer", Prue said, hugging the animal tightly. Lucifer purred like a madcat and gave her small bites in his hands. "Yes, I missed you too".  
  
The blonde left her friend on the floor and looked at the clean, fresh room, knowing that its neatness wouldn't last long because, to be honest, Prue was too lazy to arrange her things, so sooner or later it was going to be a midden. She could already imagine clothes everywhere, Lucifer's toys making more mess, and piles of scrolls here and there.  
  
With a sigh, Prue climbed onto her bed and undressed almost completely, ready to sleep. A part of her told her that it was going to be a hellish year, and another that she shouldn't be so pessimist just because the first day went badly. However, Prue knew that when something could go wrong, it would surely go wrong.  
  
 She closed her eyes.


	4. Hello, Fascination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is established that Prudence knows nothing about the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this taking so long. But ah, I'm glad it's finally here. Next chapter soon, I promise!

_"Sometimes the silence guides our minds_  
_So we move to a place so far away"._

 

It was very early in the morning when Prue was already walking through the castle dungeons. Last night she couldn’t sleep at all because the anxiety consumed her, and when she realized that it was dawning, she decided that there was no point in continue lying there. So she got up and started getting ready for the day. The first thing she did was take her typical hot water shower, and then the young woman put on the neat uniform and a pair of Dr. Martens that were a little out of place with the rest of the dress ("To be able to kick ass if I need to" , she always said to Camelia). She brushed her wavy hair until it seemed to her that the split ends weren’t that noticeable. Narcissa had given her the recipe to make the potion, but Prue still had to ask Camelia to help her do it. She knew that if she tried, she would surely en up with something that would make her bald.

Before leaving the bedroom, Prue observed Lucifer in the window frame, who was fast asleep. He liked to sleep in the window, seeing with his big yellow eyes the little fish that swam around. She thought about whether it would be a good idea to try brushing him, but she discarded this when she remembered that the last time she had improvised such an act, Lucifer had done some deep scratches and she had to scold him and spank him. The visible wounds had culminated in even more jokes.

"Again being a saddo, Pennyworth?", she heard the phantasmagorical voice of Parkinson from her memories. She shook her head and left the room.

At first she thought of going to explore the north of the castle, one of the places she frequented the least. It was like this because it was totally opposed to her natural habitat (namely, the Slytherin Common Room), but after considering it a bit, she noticed that she was more interested in walking through gloomy places, and what place was more gloomy than Hogwart’s dungeons?

The little girl turned the corner and greeted politely a pair of walking armours, barely paying attention. She was deep in thought as always, wondering over and over again if indeed all Draco had was that he was interested in Parkinson. Her first and most logical choice was yes: Draco was dying to get his hands on Parkinson. He changed her for Parkinson, ignored her for Parkinson, and started treating her the same way Parkinson did. Prue didn’t want to have to throw Lucifer at him. That would surely come to Lucius's ears, and Lucius would punish her, if only as a pretext and not because he really cared if his son had a fight or not.

Her second choice was that it had nothing to do with Parkinson and that there was some factor she didn’t know or didn’t understand, but for her everything pointed to Draco wanting to do with Parkinson what those thirteen and fifteen years old students were doing.

She shook her head at the thought of Draco in something like that, and it made her want to hit herself when the mind sent her an image of Draco doing something like what Lucius and she did.

Determined to leave the matter for her peace of mind before a film with R18 classification between Draco and Pansy (or, more likely, between her and Lucius) was reproduced, the girl began to look for ideas of what to do. Surely half an hour or so was missing for breakfast, so meanwhile she had to entertain herself. It crossed her mind to go find the Baron, or go and wait for Camelia outside her Common Room. She was even considering trying to brush Lucifer again (if someone ever hinted at she cutting her veins again, she would behead them or at least cut them a finger), when she realized she was in a dangerous area, because in that corridor was the office of the devil himself.

Prue could be all Snape's "favourite", according to her classmates, but that didn’t make her immune to the punishments that the man could put. Last year he had threatened her with Detention every weekend (for a story that might be better to tell at another time), and Prue didn’t want to lose her freedom that year just because she was walking at a too early hour. She stood still, wishing that her footsteps hadn’t made so much noise, and only in the silence she did notice that the footsteps were coming not only from her. Snape was approaching, she was sure, but it was impossible to know from which direction he came because of all the echo that sounded in the dungeons. She took two steps back as quietly as possible and thought maybe she could make a sprint to turn a couple corners, enough so that Snape couldn’t find her. She turned around, ready to go back the way she had come, but, as always, luck was not on her side in times of help.

Snape smiled at her malevolently.

"Good morning, Miss Pennyworth”, he greeted her in that low, mysterious voice he always used. Prue started working on an argument that would get her out of this mess. She thought about telling him that walking didn’t break any rule, that he couldn’t take points or punish her just because he had the period ("Not that", she shouted to herself), anything; and, meanwhile, Snape lost his smile little by little. It wasn’t normal to see a girl like her with such dark circles under those huge emeralds. “Are you feeling okay, Pennyworth?”.

The question took Prue off guard. She opened her eyes a little more in surprise, and for whatever reason she felt heat on her cheeks.

"Yes, Professor", she lied with a sharp voice, and added to that heat, she began to feel a tingle in the back of her neck. Snape narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decide whether to let her go or not. Prue wondered if the lie had been too obvious.

“Are you being honest?”.

"Yes, Professor”, she repeated, and scratched her neck a little, just to see if that stopped the feeling of ants in it. She looked up and noticed that Snape didn’t believe her that much. She cursed herself for having made that move. She surely seemed nervous.

"Get out of here before I decide to take points for walking where you shouldn’t”, he growled at last. Prue nodded and practically ran out of there, scratching her neck hard, thinking about why on earth she suddenly had that strange tingling. She felt Snape's eyes on her back until she turned a corner. She knew he knew she was lying. It hit her straight in the nose.

Already far from the dungeons, Prue's desire to stamp her head against the wall increased. What the hell happened there? She had always been an unreadable girl, nobody ever knew what was going through her mind, and yet Snape seemed to read her like an open book a few minutes ago. What was happening? Was she losing the touch? Almost in a blur of panic, Prue ran to the Ravenclaw Tower. She needed to tell Camelia a lie to make sure everything was fine. If necessary, she was going to tear apart the statue that served as the entrance guard to the Ravenclaw Common Room. If necessary, she would wake her twin up by slaps and kicks. If necessary, she was going to gain Detention for entering like that. She needed to know that everything was fine.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, luckily for her and the Ravenclaws who were still in the tower, she ran into her sister. Camelia was much less groomed than she was, but she kept her hair in a very pretty braid. Prue would like to have healthy hair like that.

"The world ends today, you've woken up early”, Camelia commented, surprised, her blue eyes more open than usual.

"I slept like a baby", Prue said, monotone. Camelia smiled at her. Even the sun itself couldn’t match the brightness of that smile. Sometimes, Prue would also like to smile like that. The thing is that her face often hurt after making an expression that wasn’t frowning. Maybe she wasn’t designed to smile.

“Really? Cool! Come on, let's have breakfast. You deserve a lot of mashed potatoes”, she said happily, not thinking for a second that her younger twin had just lied. Prue sighed, relieved that everything was still normal with her. But she still didn’t know why she had acted that... strange way with Snape.

The twins walked together to the Great Hall. It was normal that, at least for the first days, they were together all the time. After that they used to be pretty much separated for the rest of the year. It was partly because Prue didn’t like Ravenclaws, and partly because Draco needed a lot of attention. But if Draco continued to ignore her, she would have to spend the year alone. The idea seemed both pleasant and creepy.

“Do you already had been given your schedule?”, she asked as they passed the doors of the Great Hall and headed to the Ravenclaw table. Camelia nodded and pulled a parchment from the pocket of her cloak.

“Yup, and you?”.

“No, I have to go and ask Jefferson for one. Let me see”, Prue said, and the other handed her the paper. They took a seat, Camelia taking care of serving breakfast: Fruit, pumpkin juice and pancakes for her; mashed potatoes, scrambled eggs and apple juice for Prue. “Well, you still have Potions with me, and it seems that there are more classes this year. Also Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Transformations. You have Divination with Hufflepuff, so I'll have to sit with Harry in it”, she commented, returning the schedule to her twin and starting breakfast, for some reason assuming that Draco wouldn’t want to sit with her. Camelia lifted her shoulders, casting a glance at the faculty table. Prue noticed the gesture and sighed. She was already expecting some conspiracy of any of them.

“Forget Harry, just sit as far as possible from the teacher. They told me she’s sort of... kooky. Well, they didn’t use that word, but you understand”, she whispered. Prue didn’t understand. She knew that Professor Trelawney was eccentric, but to call her something like crazy...

“Who told you that stupidity?”, she said. Camellia was easily impressionable, and she didn’t need anyone getting more weird ideas into her head. Also, it annoyed her that ‘kooky’ thing. It made her remember words in the corridors and also whispered phrases in her parents' room.

“It's not stupid! Just look at her... Well, if she ever leaves her tower”, insisted the redhead. Prue rolled her eyes.

“She is rare, and that does not make her crazy. You are talking like my Slytherin companions”, she answered, a note of pain in her voice. Camelia slammed her mouth shut, swallowing her next argument, and blushed. There was a silence filled only by the sound of cutlery on plates and the murmur of the talks among other students. In general, Prue didn’t care much about the opinion of others, or that’s what she always told to herself, but hearing something like that from her twin made her feel deeply offended.

“You know? Luna’s also bothered a lot”, said the redhead in a low voice, clearly embarrassed. Prue didn’t want her to apologize, and she appreciated the change of subject, but she didn’t understand why she mentioned Lovegood to her. “Last year she even followed Snape whenever she saw him because nobody dared bother her if he was around. And before him, she was with McGonagall, but she’s much more sedentary than Snape”.

Prue felt something in her stomach at the mention of Snape, but she didn’t know what it was.

“Why do you tell me that? Lovegood is not my friend, and I do not care about her life”, she asked instead, perhaps defensively. Prue always got defensive when they talked about her feelings and problems. She had stopped eating breakfast, her eyes fixed on Camelia almost threateningly.

"’Cause I think you two could be good friends", she said, not looking at her, perhaps because she already suspected the reaction. “I think Luna could... I don’t know how to explain it. I think she could help you be a little more... open”.

Prue's mask fell completely, her brow furrowed to the maximum and the corners of her lips slightly down. If Camelia were watching her, she’d have been very surprised to see something that wasn’t indifference or boredom in that pale face.

"I do not want to be ‘more open’”, she snapped, voice as hard as Snape's when he had a bad day, trying with all her might to return to her inexpressibility. She wanted to tell Camelia that ‘being closed’ is what helped her survive day after day, whether it was from the school thugs or Lucius Malfoy. ‘Being open’ would only make them judge her, ridicule her more than they had already done. That they would be able to hurt her more deeply.

But she held back.

“I'm sorry”, Camelia said. She kept her eyes down, still, as if the pieces of fruit were very interesting. She could have only a slight idea of what it was like to be Prue, but she knew that to her sister it hurt to be her, so she just wanted to help her somehow. She supposed that telling her so directly to change wasn’t the right thing to do. “Though... I still think you would be good friends”.

Prue was about to say that she didn’t want to have anything to do with Lovegood, that her kind of weirdness wasn’t her liking, when, as a result of fate, this young girl appeared in the Great Hall. Even from the middle of the dining room, Prue could make out her huge, strange acorn earrings with feather ornaments. Her hair was loose and bouncing with the little jumps she gave as she made her way to the Ravenclaw table. Lovegood distinguished Camelia and approached them without hesitation.

"Good morning, Camelia", she said, her voice just as calm and low as it had been the day before. It was almost as monotonous as Prue's, only that it had something... nice about her. Something magical. Camelia answered her greeting with more energy than she had two minutes ago. “Hello, Prudence”.

"Lovegood”, Prue said, laconically. She felt cornered as none of Camelia's friends approached when Prue was with her, but Lovegood didn’t seem to care. She was there, sitting in front of her and watching the food without being disturbed by the presence of the Slytherin. Prue was actually bothered by the other blonde, and that's why she was still defensive.

"I notice you're almost finished”, continued the blue-eyed, not paying attention to Prue's hostile tone, “I guess is so you’re not late for the first class. I can sit somewhere else so you don’t have to wait for me, if you want”.

"No, no, you can stay here", Camelia exclaimed, and there was something in her tone of voice and her mischievous smirk that Prue recognized. She stared at her with fury, trying to shout a resounding ‘no’ at her, but Camelia ignored it, pretending not to understand the message. “In fact, I think Prue can keep you company, since I'm going to look for something that I left in the tower, right, Prue?”.

Prue felt her throat full of swearwords. She put a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth and it pushed everything back inside.

“Yes”, was all she said.

She hated that Camelia was so smart. She knew that Prue always tried to be as polite as possible with people who hadn’t done anything to her, and telling a girl like Lovegood to bugger off would be very rude. As annoying as she seemed, Prue wouldn’t be, couldn’t be rude to her.

Camelia knew this very well. She smiled more widely as she said goodbye, saying she would see them in Transformations, and then left, leaving an almost hysterical and certainly uncomfortable Prue alone with Lovegood.

#♤

Transformations was the first class of the day, which she would take with Ravenclaw, so Prue ended up escorting Lovegood to the classroom. She did it partly because she wanted to see if by any chance someone messed with the Ravenclaw (which didn’t happen), and partly because she was starting to feel curious about the strange girl.

There was something in Lovegood that managed to appease Prue. After the discomfort that occurred when Camelia left, the blonde began to comment that Camelia talked a lot about her and that, if it didn’t bother her, she wanted to know her a little better, and that if it bothered her, she wouldn’t talk about it again. Prue had felt out of orbit, had wrinkled her nose, and had not answered at all because she didn’t know what to say. Nobody ever told her that ‘they wanted to know her a little better’, they all fled from her; the only one who ever did was Lucius, and she didn’t like how it had ended that of ‘knowing her better’. Lovegood, obviously, was no man waiting to devour her, so Prue decided to give the girl a bit of freedom, at least what her short patience could withstand. Above all, Prue was flattered that she had given her an option instead of forcing her choice.

So, during breakfast and on the road to Transformations, Prue remained silent, just listening to Luna talk about Nargles and other non-existent animals that she’d like Hagrid to consider teaching them in class. Most of the time she didn’t understand what the hell Lovegood was talking about, but she paid attention anyway because it was the least she could do.

When they reached the classroom, Prue stopped for a moment, looking for her friend with her eyes. Draco was already there, strange for him to arrive early, and, as she had anticipated, he was still with Parkinson. They spoke as if time hadn’t passed since last night. Prue pursed her lips.

So that was the way it was going to be, huh?

"I really liked talking to you, Prue”, Lovegood's voice said from her right, bringing her back to reality. “Well, I liked that you listened to me. I hope we can repeat it another time”.

“Perhaps. See you later, Lovegood”, Prue said dismissively, heading to her seat at the front of the class. Draco was with Parkinson, LeBlanc with Anderson, Camelia would sit with Lovegood, and the seat next to the Slytherin would remain empty.

Prue had never noticed how big the desk was when Draco wasn’t there.

#♤

At about four in the afternoon, the last class of the day, things had improved a little. Prue had already gotten the idea that Draco’s attitude would last much more than a day, so she tried to ignore him as much as she could. Camelia, having noticed that her friend wasn’t after Prue as always, decided to invite her to stay with her and her friends. Prue hadn’t wanted at first, but Camelia argued that she should at least try and that if she really couldn’t stand them, she was free to leave without more. Prue had sighed and finally accepted the invitation, which caused Camelia and Lovegood, or if the class was with Gryffindor, Longbottom, to sit near her or share a bench (Longbottom did it with a lot more nervousness, which made Prue angry, but she didn’t commit even the slightest rudeness to him). At times, Prue felt like an abandoned puppy to whom they had compassion, and she hated compassion more than anything else, but the looks of those three didn’t have a shred of it if she looked right.

In those moments, Prue was heading to Herbology with Camelia and Lovegood, as well as LeBlanc, who by some miracle had finally separated from Anderson. The two Ravenclaws walked a little in front of her, talking about Merlin knows what, while the boy stayed by her side, also in silence. Prue was more used to LeBlanc, so she felt more comfortable walking with him. Also,she wanted to ask him exactly what was going on with Anderson. She wanted details, even if they were disgusting. Perhaps that would help her decipher if Draco was horny with Parkinson or not.

“Have you already shagged with Anderson?”, the girl suddenly spat when she was sure that Camelia was far enough away or distracted enough. She didn’t want her to get all sensitive for hearing that they were talking about that girl, or about her slang.

LeBlanc looked at her with wide eyes, as if impressed, and turned red.

“M-Merlin, Prue...”, he muttered, ashamed. Prue just looked at him, almost annoyed by his shyness. It was obvious where he wanted to get his hands, so she didn’t understand why he was playing dumb now. “No, I haven’t ‘shagged’ with her, and I don’t think I'm very interested in the idea right now”.

It was Prue's turn to open her eyes.

“What do you mean by that? Then why are you over her all day?”, she asked, genuinely confused. As far as she knew, a man only approached a woman when he wanted a little of her or when he loved her, but according to her, that only came after sex.

LeBlanc looked at her with a raised eyebrow, maybe as confused as she was. Then he relaxed his expression and laughed a little. Prue felt he was laughing at her, something she didn’t like. In addition, she disliked the boy's laugh, which was nasty and very uneven.

"Cam doesn’t lie when she says you're a potato when it comes to feelings", he said with a laugh. Prue frowned. “Look, it's not all about sexual desire, or even love, but I guess you already know that”.

Prue didn’t know. For her, there was only love, lack of love, and sex. Lucius didn’t love her, but he liked her body and the sounds that came from her lips. Lucius felt love for Narcissa, Narcissa felt love for Lucius. That love was born after sex. There were no half measures. You loved or didn’t love someone, and the desire was independent of that feeling.

"I mean, I don’t love Pamela, I think, nor do I want to do that with her”, continued LeBlanc, who hadn’t noticed Prue's distant gaze. “I just... well, I just like her, you know? It's like, the thing that goes before love I suppose”.

Prue wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that before love there was only sex, but she said nothing. She nodded flatly, thinking about how a Ravenclaw could be so stupid.

When they arrived at Greenhouse 3, almost all the other students were there. LeBlanc smiled at Anderson and she answered with the most stupid and false smile that Prue had ever seen, but he seemed entranced by the simple fact that she smiled at him.

"Good afternoon, class", said professor Sprout. She had a lot of bags to her right and she wasn’t wearing gloves, which only meant she would give them some kind of activity rather than an actual lesson. Prue knew it. “As it is our first day I thought we should do something fun to remember last year. Can anyone tell me what a bouncing bulb is?”.

The hands of all the Ravenclaws rose in the air. Prue was incredibly intolerant to all those know-it-alls, so she couldn’t help rolling her eyes until they were completely blank. Beside her, Camelia giggled, amused at how easy it was to annoy Prue.

While Sprout gave the word to one of the Ravenclaws, Prue's attention was set on Draco, who had just sneaked in. For a second Prue thought that he’d go with her as he walked in her direction, and was disappointed when the boy gave Camelia a notebook and then moved to Parkinson’s side, without even saying a sad ‘hello’. He hadn’t even seen her. Her face got even more tense. She sensed that there would be rain that night.

After the explanation of the boy, Professor Sprout wasted no time in putting them in pairs to complete the task of gathering bulbs in the rest of greenhouses, promising extra points for the first couple to bring at least twenty plants. Prue watched in horror as Parkinson practically grabbed Draco by the hand and they both headed for the north greenhouses. Now they also had physical contact. It had only been a day and they were already touching. Not even Lucius had been so quick with her.

“Hey, Prue, don’t ya want the extra points?”, Camelia inquired. Prue stopped seeing where the Slytherins had gone and looked at her twin. She had the bag for bulbs in one hand and the short wand in the other. She was waiting for her.

"I thought you would work with Lovegood”, Prue said and approached Camelia, who headed toward the south greenhouses.

“Luna said that you seemed a bit distant and that it would be better if we were together for a while”, explained the redhead. Prue suspected that Camelia had accepted so easily because she was disgustingly bad with plants while Prue was a natural with them, just as with animals. However, the change in her twin's expression made her think that maybe she was really worried. “I agree with her. You're acting weird. Did something happen, or is it just because of Draco?”.

Prue considered the question. It was true that something was happening with Draco, but it was also true that something else was happening. She thought about it a little bit, more analytically, and concluded that Draco was a factor, but the real problem was independent of him. However, she didn’t know how to explain to Camelia that she wasn’t sure of something she had considered true until LeBlanc opened her mouth, so she just answered with a question.

“What is this ‘like someone’ thing?”.

Camelia saw her as if she were a weirdo. Prue wasn’t offended, she knew how strange that question must’ve sounded and how silly she must’ve been looking by asking that. She imagined that it was something ‘basic’, but Prue didn’t know about those ‘basic’ things. They hadn’t given her the opportunity to grow and think normally, that in her heart and mind were room for simple things that everyone knew. Her parents had fucked up her head, and Lucius Malfoy ended up fucking her completely (sorry for the joke).

"I read somewhere that the human being only feels love or sexual attraction", the girl added, a clever and natural lie, because she didn’t want to admit that the idea was born entirely from her rotten mind, “and now a classmate comes and tells me that he neither feels love nor wants to fornicate with his friend, but he likes her, and that’s it. What is this ‘like’ thing, then?”, she repeated, ignoring the tic in Camelia's eye by using the word ‘fornicate’.

They arrived at the centre of another of the greenhouses, number 10 as Prue identified. Among the earth were some purple things that could only be hidden bulbs. Prue liked bulbs, they were funny, and she thought they had a nice smell. Surely she was the only person in the world who had that opinion.

"I think this is a good place", the blue-eyed replied, passing the sack to Prue and preparing her wand. “I stun, you catch, all right, Prue?”.

“Right”.

The girls got down to work. Bulbs were difficult to catch because they were very slippery, but Prue was amused by the task. Besides, it kept her entertained whilst Camelia thought about how to answer the question she’d asked her. Prue preferred to wait for a well-structured response than to get an immediate but ambiguous response.

They had captured the seventh bulb when Camelia finally spoke again.

“Look, that there’s only love and desire to sleep with someone is idiocy”, she began. Prue was amused that Camelia was unable to say ‘sex’. “There are many other things in between, but what you mean is... It's basically attraction, okay? But physical attraction, not sexual”.

“What is the difference? If the genitals are part of the physical”, Prue argued. She didn’t do it because she didn’t believe in Camelia, but because she wanted to understand everything.

"When you like someone physically you don’t just think about seeing him naked, Prue”, the redhead replied, throwing a failed __Petrificus__  to a bulb that was around. Camelia used to be able to concentrate on only one thing at a time. If she was explaining something, it was hard for her to think of something else. Prue pulled out her wand and managed to petrify the bulb before it escaped. “It's like, in general, thinking about his face or his hair and how much you like it. Sometimes even in his style of clothing or in how he looks when he laughs. Things like that”.

“Are you telling me that ‘liking someone’ is like admiring a painting?”, Prue asked, eyes focused on the earth in case another plant emerged. She wanted to learn, but she wanted those extra points even more. Her mind wandered to Draco, imagining her friend standing in a very long corridor, admiring a wall-sized portrait of Parkinson.

He had bad taste.

"You can put it that way", the redhead admitted, a hand on her chin as she imagined something that might be similar to Draco's image in Prue's mind. She had given up on the task of the bulbs. “And well, after that like stuff, comes a crush, I’d say”.

“Is not it the same as loving someone?”.

"I don’t think so", Camelia said with a soft laugh, like air. She liked that Prue was curious about those things. It was at last a different subject to Lucifer and classes. “Having a crush with someone is like... Like you __like__ all of him and also want to be with him, you know? It's something like... like a very light obsession. You think about him all the time and you’re nervous when he’s near and maybe you even act strange in his presence and you always, always want to see him”.

Prue imagined Draco hugging Parkinson’s portrait. Then she noticed that Camelia spoke with more emotion in her voice than usual. She turned to see her, suspicion devouring her.

"You have a crush with someone", she said, more in an affirmation than a question. Camelia blushed a little.

“To be honest, yes, but let's not talk about that. Do you want the points or not?”, she asked, managing to divert Prue's attention effectively and for the rest of the hour.

#♤

For dinner time, the young Slytherin rejected Camelia’s invitations definitively, wishing to be left alone. She was sitting at the table in her house, serving what she was going to eat. All her companions were at the other end of the table ("Pennyworth is coming!", someone had shouted, and everyone left her as if she was the plague), which she was grateful for. She wanted to think things through. After questioning Camelia, she began to notice certain attitudes in that couple. Parkinson corresponded to what her sister had said about crushes, because when being with Draco, Prue managed to notice small tics, nervous smiles and even some panic when there was no topic of conversation. There was no doubt that Parkinson had a crush with Draco, which didn’t surprise her. The boy had the charm of his father, after all. To a lesser extent, according to Prue’s opinion, but he had it.

However, Draco acted normally and lightly, as always. He wouldn’t appear to be interested in Parkinson in the least if it weren’t for his sudden change of attitude. In fact, when they talked, most of the time Draco didn’t even see her. Perhaps he didn’t admire her, perhaps he didn’t like her.

Prue's second option seemed more plausible now.

Of course, attitude didn’t mean anything concrete. It could be that Draco was interested and was simply a natural or acting out of the average. Besides, to be honest, at those moments Prue wasn’t too interested in that; no, her mind urged her to discover who Camelia had a crush with. The problem was that, like Draco, Camelia used to always be calm with everyone.

She had already eaten her third dish of mashed potatoes, ignoring the comments made by other Slytherins and some Gryffindors, when her spoon fell off, making a great noise. What if there was someone she liked and she hadn’t even realized? Could she feel something like that for someone? The idea thrilled her, and her obsessive mind soon began to search in the Great Hall for someone, whoever. But the more she moved her head from one side to the other, the more the excitement of the moment passed, because she couldn’t find anyone to capture her attention, or make her nervous, or someone she thought about more than once a day. She sighed with some sadness. Maybe she had a withered heart, just as her parents shouted at her once.

The doors of the Great Hall were suddenly crossed by Snape, who was waving the long cloak furiously. Prue's attentive eyes watched him, self-absorbed. Her breath faulted a little; oh, how she liked to watch him walk, mostly because of the way his cape moved. She thought about that Muggle hero, the famous Batman. Prue liked Batman. She also liked Snape's cloak. She’d like to have a cloak like that.

The blonde continued to stare at her professor until he reached his seat, and she continued to stare afterwards. She watched how he served very modest amounts. She wondered if he was on a diet, but she couldn’t imagine Severus Snape in one of those, as if he were an old woman in the forty’s crisis. He was already skinny enough.

Prue would have continued with the unconscious harassment of her professor if it wasn’t because, suddenly, a pair of black eyes were fixed on her. Prue felt heat all over her face and looked away from Snape. She cursed that penetrating way she had to see. Even the most distracted human would feel how she made holes with that pair of eyes. She cleared her throat, eating the mashed potatoes again, wishing Snape didn’t pay much attention to her.

Although, if he did, what? Was he going to take points because she was staring at him? She was allowed to see whoever she wanted, for as long as she wanted. She frowned, placed a spoonful of mashed potatoes in her mouth, and looked up again, very determined.

When the green hit the black once again, Prue's courage vanished. Snape was still watching her, a raised eyebrow and lips in a grimace of disgust. She looked down as fast as she’d lifted her head, feeling stupid and very nervous. She finished her food in two bites and alized her clothes in something that could be classified as a nervous tic. She’d decided that there was no point in continuing to think about those nonsense of liking and crushing and so on, so she left the Great Hall with a firm step, not even noticing that that pair of dark eyes saw her in the same way that she’d seen the owner of them.


	5. Pesty Prue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is established that something broken can become even more broken.

_"I can taste it,  
My heart's breaking." _

 

Classes came and went, and everyone had become accustomed to their new schedules and subjects. Prue knew hers by heart, and at that moment she was riding an invisible unicorn through the dungeons of Hogwarts. Yes, a unicorn; whenever Prue was alone, she allowed herself to be carried away a little, she allowed herself to be childish. She did things like flicking her tongue and pretending to ride, or saying good morning to inanimate objects and arguing with them, or just jumping around like she was a rabbit. Nobody knew that side of her, not even Camelia. The only one who had seen her like that was Lucifer, with whom she also used to dance if the coast was clear. So Prue knew that in the dungeons nobody would see her because she knew every inch of the place, and that was a desolate and dangerous area. The chances of someone sticking their nose out there were more remote than a kiss between Harry and Malfoy.

In any case, when arriving at the corridor where all the students of Ravenclaw and Slytherin were waiting to start Potions, Prue abandoned her unicorn and went to plant there, totally serious and cold. It wasn’t long before Camelia approached her, followed by Lovegood. The first thing Prue did when she saw them was to ask, again, who was the one she liked.

"Yeah, hello to you too", said Camelia, rolling her eyes. The blonde knew that her sister was probably more than jaded with the constant harassment on the same subject. “I told ya it doesn’t matter, Prue. Do you want to stop at once and for all?”.

"Not really, no", Prue said. She was opening her mouth to add some scathing comment when Snape appeared around the corner. In general all the students were silent, leaving the dungeon in an almost complete silence. It could be third year, but everyone was still intimidated by the threat that was Snape. They saw him pass, some praying he was in an acceptable mood, but no one looked at him as intently as Prue. Her emeralds shone.

The Potions Master soon opened the classroom door and everyone followed him, going to settle into their seats. Prue went to sit at her usual place in front of the class. Although in general she liked to be up front to be less distracted and because it was kind of a psychological trick ("They are always going to ask the students in the back, Lucifer"), in Potions it wasn’t t an option. The girl had earned the dubious honour of sitting right in front of Snape because he feared how bad she was in his class. He preferred to keep her close and avoid any catastrophe before it even happened.

For the misfortune of his students, Snape wasn’t in a very good mood. He roared a "silence!" despite the fact that practically nobody spoke and waved his wand, causing the chalk to begin to move across the blackboard in an enraged way. It wrote a potion that looked extremely complicated to make. In another situation, Prue would be going into a silent panic at such an omen, but in reality she kept watching her professor, practically processing nothing of what was going on around her, like Camelia sitting behind her or Lovegood taking the old seat of Malfoy.

"You’re going to copy everything on your scrolls in silence and by the end of the class I'll be waiting for your rested potions until the seventh step", Snape said in an intimidating voice, arms crossed and remarking more than enough that they had to be silent, "and whoever doesn’t will subtract points to their home and will earn a nice Detention. You may begin”.

There was a stir while some youngsters went to take the ingredients very hasty. Others, like Prue, preferred to write first the steps to follow. The strumming of the feathers against the parchment, the jars being opened or closed, and only a very low murmur of some brave ones talking, was what filled the room. Prue's hand contributed with the writing, although her attention was still far from the classroom or the task to be accomplished. Well, it wasn’t really that far away. Rather, it was in front of the class.

Prue was a rather obsessive person. She looked for any subject to keep her head occupied and to prevent herself from wandering, as that only made her soak her cheeks. In general the subject became like a parasite. At first the parasite had been Malfoy and his absolutely lovely Parkinson, and after that came Camelia’s parasite. But now that her mind and heart had given up in the hope that Malfoy would return to normal, Prue had a gap to fill. She didn’t know very well with what she could fill it with at first, but the answer presented itself almost on a silver platter after lunch on her first weekend: Her obsession with Severus Snape.

Not that the filling was an obsession with the man, it rather was an obsession to know why she had an obsession in the first place. From the first day she’d been weird with him. She got strangely nervous when he saw her directly, but at the same time she liked that nervous feeling; she had acquired the habit of staring at him all the time, something he seemed conscious of but decided to ignore; her little inner voice was now his instead of her own. She had come to the point of thinking about looking for problems to have Detention. Prue wanted to know why Snape was day and night in her head.

"Hello, Prudence", a soft voice suddenly greeted, very low. As if she’d been asleep, Prue turned her head with eyes still half-closed. Beside her was Lovegood, smiling a little and writing the potion. Prue noticed that her own hand had already finished transcribing and was on autopilot, scribbling alongside the text several little Lucifers. “I'm sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but Camelia told me that you like good manners”.

"Hello, Lovegood", Prue replied, already more awake. She had gradually become accustomed to the presence of the Ravenclaw. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable with her, but apparently Lovegood was. They had a week of classes and she practically spent more with her than with Camelia. In general they didn’t talk much, they only made company for the other. She suspected that Lovegood was so much with her because the only time they bothered her, it happened that Prue was there and the blonde didn’t hesitate to send them to do very explicit things with their mothers; in other words, she believed that Lovegood followed her only for protection. Although, deep down, in a place where Prue accepted what she thought or felt, the girl wanted Lovegood to be with her just because she liked being with her.

"You must like him very much", Lovegood added even more quietly, placing down the pen and taking the necessary ingredients. She had taken the trouble to take ingredients for Prue too, so she passed them to her. She didn’t thank her, mostly because she was looking at her with a slight frown.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about, Lovegood?”, she asked, quite confused. From the other side of the room, Snape shouted at her to shut up, and she went pink, feeling again that strange mess in her stomach. She apologized, trying not to look at him for too long.

Lovegood giggled.

“Professor Snape, of course. I didn’t think you'd care about him, but I guess he's your kind of man”.

Prue stared at her with wide eyes in an expression of confusion and surprise, ignoring the laughter that escaped Camelia, and still not understanding what Lovegood was talking about. Or, rather, without knowing how she could be saying those idiocies. What did she meant with... "her kind of man"? She was about to ask again when she noticed that the blonde was already deep in her potion, smelling the ingredients and adding notes to the parchment. Prue didn’t want to interrupt her, so she bit her tongue and started to try to do something at least decent. Not that she cared much about the potion or even the points, but she didn’t want that Snape humiliated her for the umpteenth time.

#♤

"He'll let you ride him", Hagrid was saying as he carried Harry and placed him on the hippogriff's back. Harry didn’t want to, but Hagrid didn’t care about that, and soon he hit the animal’s rear, which made it start to run and then to fly. Everyone saw it, except the young blonde. Prue was very busy with the other hippogriffs, caressing them and even talking to them. All the bad student she was in Potions was opposed with how good she was in Care. In fact, it seemed that her touch with animals was something innate. Anyone would think that someone with such a shady and heavy aura would scare animals, which after all have a certain sixth sense and get away from those things, but it wasn’t like that. If not for a few exceptions, like dogs, which Prue hated deeply, all kinds of creatures followed her and she could tame them quickly.

“Would you let me ride you like that?”, she asked one of the hippogriffs when she noticed that Harry was in the air. The animal, black as night, moved his head at something Prue interpreted as an affirmation. “Now I understand why Hagrid wanted this job so badly”.

That statement left her thinking. Prue, being someone who always tried to see all kinds of paths to take, curiously, had never thought about her future, about studying something and work on it. She wondered if she could do something like Hagrid, or like that Weasley's brother, and basically always work among magical creatures. The idea tempted her, she wasn’t going to lie to herself, but... It wasn’t going to satisfy her. She knew it. A quiet life, a relaxed life, the ideal of many people, was something that wouldn’t keep her very happy for a long time. She needed something to satisfy her infinite curiosity, something to keep her mind very busy.

Before she could think of something that could keep her entertained, Harry came back to the ground, drawing her attention. Prue liked to fly, and was very good at it, so she was curious to know what Harry had thought of his little adventure. He looked very amused, with his hair dishevelled and his eyes cheerful, and all his companions applauded him, excited and proud that the boy had endured such a trip.

Of course, in his typical childish and envious role, Malfoy soon wanted to play brave, annoyed by the attention given to his enemy. He approached Buckbeack, the hippogriff, without any kind of courtesy. Although obviously the animal didn’t understand what Malfoy was saying, he seemed deeply offended and, as expected, attacked him. The blonde felt delight at the sight of all the drama: Hagrid trying to restrain the hippogriff from crushing Malfoy with its front legs, whilst the young boy writhed on the floor, and Hermione indicated that he had to be taken to the infirmary. Prue was a cruel girl, and seeing people suffer always made her feel better, especially someone who had hurt her, even if it was a little.

In the end Hagrid managed to calm down Buckbeack, and after he charged Malfoy in his arms and started to walk, he shouted that the class was finished. Prue sighed with annoyance and said goodbye to her feathered friends, taking her time as she didn’t want to join her companions or the Gryffindors. If there was something that everyone united to do, that was to annoy her, and her mood was half good, so she didn’t want to get angry. When they walked away a little she took her things and started walking to the castle, ready for another hour of classes with those bloody Gryffindors. At least, she thought, she could get rid of seeing Malfoy completely ignore her.

When she reached the stone stairs, Prue heard Parkinson shrieking something about going to see Malfoy, whilst the Gryffindors and the Slytherins fought to defend Hagrid or Malfoy respectively. She just rolled her eyes and went on her way, thinking how bothersome it was that people got involved in matters that were not theirs.

To her surprise, just when she rounded a corner, she ran into Camelia. She seemed concerned.

"Please come with me to see Draco", she said. The blonde raised an eyebrow, wondering how the hell she already knew about the accident. The gossips couldn’t run so fast. Not even she herself, a professional gossip with her faithful Lucifer, found out things just a few minutes after they happened. “I saw them pass by when I left Charms. Please, Prue", Camelia explained immediately, knowing in advance what her twin was going to ask.

"I have class with McGonagall", said the other, serious. It was obvious that she didn’t want to go, because just as Malfoy avoided her, she had also taken the habit of avoiding him, but Camelia gave her that puppy look that only she could make. Prue sighed and turned around, looking between her housemates. “Crabbe, come here. Can you cover me in Transformations?”, she called at last, and the young boy nodded, ears red and dreamy-eyed, stunned by the fact that a girl as pretty as Prue had spoken to him. She thanked him, and then both girls started walking to the infirmary.

"Anyone can see that he likes you very much", Camelia commented after a few minutes, in an attempt to break the tension in the air, characteristic of what happened when one was near Prue. “A little obvious, right? He always turns red when you talk to him, and I think he's one of the few that doesn’t bother you”.

"I have never noticed", Prue replied, but she was a little rosy at the thought of being liked by someone according to Camelia, even if that someone was Crabbe.

Soon they arrived at the infirmary, in which were Hagrid, Madam Pompfrey, Parkinson and Malfoy. The blond still writhed in pain and moaned in his classic victim role, while Parkinson stroked his hair. Hagrid looked at his hands, nervous, perhaps embarrassed. It had been basically the first class and this happened. Prue didn’t usually feel empathy, but in those moments, she couldn’t help feeling bad for the man. They weren’t friends as such, at least she believed not, but he had always been kind to her. Even in past years, when Prue hadn’t rested for days because she felt too sad, he let her spend the afternoon in his cabin, telling her stories about fantastic creatures that interested him. On those occasions, Prue always turned her back to him as she looked into the woods, not wanting him to see her tears run. She cried because she felt grateful that someone would lend her some of their time to make her feel better, without questions or pressure. Because it reminded her a little of her grandfather Lucian.

"That was very irresponsible on your part, Hagrid", Pompfrey scolded him as she healed Malfoy's wound. Her face was full of exasperation and annoyance. Then she looked at the boy. “And you quit crying, Mr Malfoy. It’s not so grave”.

"You'll see, you and your damn beast", the boy was threatening with false gestures of pain, “when my father hears about this...”

"Like it is Hagrid's fault he is a birdbrained", Prue told Camelia in a low voice.

Pompfrey finally finished with Malfoy, and after wiping her hands and telling the blond that it would be better to stop moving so much, because that would only cause him to really hurt himself, she took Hagrid away, saying that they had to talk about what happened with Snape. Hagrid looked even more nervous at the thought of having to face the man, since Malfoy was like his protege. When he passed by, Prue gave him the most reassuring look she could conceive. Hagrid half smiled at her, and she made her decision: If necessary, she herself would testify that Malfoy had sought it. Even more, she was willing to send a letter to Lucius before anyone else to soften him up a bit, even if she had to fulfil some of those sexual favours she hated so much.

“What happened with ‘people get too involved in what does not concern them’?”, asked her conscience. Prue pursed her lips. Nor was she going to let an injustice be committed. she wouldn’t let Hagrid get fired, which was what bloody Malfoy would look for.

And speaking of him, as soon as the adults disappeared, the boy remained silent and leaned back, avoiding facing the twins. Parkinson, after smiling a little at the boy, stood up. She wanted to fight.

“Go away. Draco already has all the company he needs”, she ordered, ignoring Camelia completely, her small eyes fixed on her Slytherin companion. Prue crossed her arms defensively. “Get out of here, dwarf, or I'll ...”

“Or what, Parkinson, or what?”, she barked. Camelia looked at them nervously. Maybe taking Prue wasn’t a good idea, but she knew that even if she didn’t say anything, she also cared for Malfoy. The problem was that she didn’t count on Parkinson being there, and whilst Prue wasn’t a troublemaker, she had a rather short fuse and a tongue as sharp as a razor, especially when it came to Parkinson. “Allow me to guess: Since you lack grey matter to think about something, you will surely want to sit on me with that fat ass”.

There she went.

"Go away", Parkinson repeated, now crossing her arms too. She was frowning, for like any bully, Parkinson was still extremely insecure in many things and Prue mentioning one of them had hurt.

"Camelia and I can go wherever we want", the aforesaid replied, knowing full well that she was winning.

“Your sister doesn’t matter, but you’re just a leftover. You're a nuisance”, Parkinson replied, and a sudden smile crossed her face, one that gave Camelia an odd feeling. “Do you know what Draco told me, Pennyworth? That neither your parents can stand you, and they wish you had never been born! Maybe you should learn to disappear, but forgetting how to appear", she added cruelly, and laughed. Prue frowned and glared at Malfoy; she had never said anything to anyone about how little her father appreciated him, how much Lucius always said he would have preferred a talented and intelligent girl like her as a daughter.

But Malfoy still didn’t see her.

Coward.

“Well, stuck your disappearance up your...”

“Prue!”, interrupted Camelia, scandalized. Prue ignored the subsequent requests to wait and calm down, and went to class, forgetting her sister completely, wishing she had never entered that damn infirmary.

Although her face remained expressionless as she walked through the long, silent corridors, Prue was sparking inside. How had he dared to discuss her family situation with someone else? It was something private, something that, she felt, they only had the right to say to each other. A hurtful and cruel joke, yes, but also private. Prue would never have talked about it with anyone, she would never have said anything because she knew it was something that hurt. However, apparently, he didn’t care, and that made her feel angry, and also, betrayed.

#♤

The library was one of Prue's favourite places. Between the books and the silence was where Prue felt more at ease. Much like Hermione, the blonde was a devourer of books; she had read so much in her life to the point that even many of the books that were in the library, she already knew them. It was her escape route at home, and although she had quite lost her habit after the first year, when she started going to London alone, she still read a lot. So the library was a perfect place for her. There she could go to think and relax, especially when everything was crazy outside, like for example that day. Parkinson had made sure to tell everyone the joke that nobody liked Prue, and most of her friends spent the day bothering her every time they saw her in the hallways, and in class when there wasn’t an attentive professor, and especially in the Great Hall. Anderson was among them, naturally, and Prue thought that, when the time came, she was going to pay.

In spite of that, what she did in the library wasn’t only escape for a while, but also finish an extensive task of Arithmancy with her sister. Technically she could have done it over the weekend, but she preferred to do everything once and for all. So, they had just finished dinner when she proposed Camelia to start with the work. She was willing to help her twin in any problem that was difficult for her, since it wasn’t a simple class if one wasn’t good with numbers, and Camelia wasn’t very bright with them, so Prue was going to help her in everything she could... Or so she had said. The truth is that she just wanted to continue questioning the mysterious ‘friend' that Camelia liked so much.

“Do I know him?”, Prue whispered. She had to keep the volume low since Mrs Pince, the librarian, didn’t allow any noise on her guard. Not the slightest voice, much less at night when there were so many students concentrating on some heavy work or a last minute task.

"Yes, Prue", said Camelia, wearily. Prue was silent for a while, thinking. Then she frowned. That wasn’t a very good clue since Prue knew a lot of people (being a gossip wasn’t easy). None was her friend, true, but if the point was knowing them,she knew them.

“What house?”, she asked after a while. Camelia stared at him, amused and annoyed.

“You are unbearable, do you know? And I'm not going to tell you that”, she replied with a half smile. Maybe she thought that would make very obvious who he might be, and she had some reason. Prue knew the tastes of her twin, and knowing the house would make her think of some options that she would discard over the days by mere obsessive observation of Camelia's behaviour. “But we've been talking all day about me. Better tell me, who do you like, Prue?”

The blonde remained silent and stopped writing, clearly with only one person in mind. It was, of course, Snape, but Prue wasn’t going to tell Camelia that. Not only because it would be ridiculous and she would surely make fun of her, but because she herself wasn’t sure if she liked him, as Lovegood had said, or if she was just confusing things, which usually happened when something had to do with her heart.

"No, nobody really", she said at last, ignoring the tickling in her neck. Camelia narrowed her eyes.

“Then you must be liked by someone... Besides Crabbe, of course. You're weird, but there are always persons with weird tastes”, she said. Prue made a movement with her wrist, indicating that much less, and was about to return to her work when an image came to mind: Lucius, helping her choose her clothes, without any kind of sexual context. Just trying to make her feel pretty. Her cheeks turned pink. “Aha! Who?”, Camelia asked, who hadn’t missed Prue's reaction. Pince ordered her to be quiet, bothered, and she apologized.

"I am not sure", said the blonde, still stuck in the work, or trying to be. Suddenly a lot of memories of Lucius doing things for her that had nothing to do with sex were appearing in her head, and the poor girl began to feel even more confused than before. Perhaps scared.

Camelia shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter. C’mon, tell me”, she urged. Prue shook her head. The twin frowned and spoke a little louder. “Tell me!”.

Pince raised her head again, but she wasn’t sure who made the fuss among so many young people. Even so, her eyes slid very close to where the twins were.

“No. Now continue to work”, growled the green-eyed. Camelia put down her pen and pinched her twin's ribs.

“Please! I promise not to say anything”, she pleaded quietly again when she noticed that the librarian was looking for her. She continued to prick Prue's ribs, which didn’t help the girl. Now, in addition to being scared and confused, she felt upset. She pulled Camelia's hand away from herself, perhaps a little less forcefully than she should have, for the other had a face that clearly meant she wasn’t going to stop.

“No. Work”.

“Don’t you trust your sister, baby Prue?”.

“No, and you should finish that”.

“Please!”.

“No!”, Prue screamed, exasperated at last, in a clear, strong, imperious voice that put a stop to everyone's writing. The others stared at her, surprised, probably wondering what the bloody hell was wrong. Pince jumped to her feet and asked them to retire in a voice almost as angry as Prue's. The sisters had no choice but to take their parchments and leave the library between glances and whispers of the other students. “You shall be happy, I was almost finished”, the girl said after taking a couple of steps outside. Camelia rolled her eyes.

“That happens to you for not telling me. Will you do it now?”, she insisted. Prue started to walk away.

"Good night, Camelia”, she replied before disappearing down a passage, leaving her sister intrigued and with a tantrum in her mouth.

Down in the dungeons, Prue wasted no time in going to her Common Room. Camelia and her questions had opened a new stream of thoughts, and now besides Snape, Prue was thinking about Lucius. Maybe he liked her? It seemed silly, mainly because he was a married man and much older, but didn’t he like to have sex with her? Didn’t this thing of ‘liking’ came before sexual desire? Did that mean that he, a successful man and no fool like Crabbe, saw her as someone... pretty? Her heart jumped as she considered this, but she wasn’t sure if it was happiness or discomfort.

And she liked him? If she thought about it a little bit, it could be said that she liked him, because after all he was a very attractive man, something that anyone could notice. But if she thought about it a little more, Lucius Malfoy only caused her a deep fear, one to which she had unfortunately become accustomed. She still felt chills at seeing him, and often had nightmares about him, but she had taught his body to become numb instead of resisting. Getting used to someone so bad couldn’t be a sign of liking, right? Because if it was, she didn’t want to like Snape.

Already in the Common Room, Prue went to lay on one of the armchairs taking advantage that there was nobody in the place. She saw the Great Lake through one of the windows, fascinated by the colours and the lighting they caused. And there she meditated and meditated, losing herself as she always did, fluctuating between Snape and Lucius, sometimes going to Camelia, or Malfoy, or even Lovegood, and returning again to her teacher and the blond man. So she continued for a long time, and soon began to fall asleep.

The last thing she heard before letting herself go completely with Morpheus was something that sounded like steps and laughter.

#♤

An hour or so later, Prue woke up from her sleep. She didn’t remember what she had dreamt, and she felt completely twisted, with pain in her back and one of her wrists. She thought that she needed a bath to remove the heaviness, and cursed herself for falling asleep there, where anyone could see her. So she got up ready to go to her room at once, stretching her body with a small yawn. There were a few Slytherins there, maybe from sixth or seventh year, who stared at her and then started laughing. Prue raised an eyebrow, surprised, but paid no attention and continued walking.

“People nowadays laughs at anything. Even for the most common thing in the world, like waking up after falling asleep in a bad place”, she said in a whisper, slightly irritated.

Upstairs, on the hall to the girls' bedroom, Prue ran into Anderson. The girl saw her with her mouth wide open before laughing so hard that she had to place her hand on her mouth to not make so much noise, while bending in two. Prue didn’t like that any more. Something must have happened, and she hated not being aware of things, especially if they involved her.

Harvesting more laughter as she passed by, Prue finally reached the door of her room, where she froze. There was a parchment stuck in the wood. The ink shone and attracted the attention of those who passed by, and written in shaky and green letters was a message:

 

_Have you seen your ‘beautiful’ face, Pennyworth?_

_-D._

 

Prue entered at the speed of light the room, ripping the parchment from her door and making it a ball. Without even saying hello to Lucifer, she went to the bathroom and removed the towel she had put on the mirror so she wouldn’t see herself each time she walked in. As soon as she saw her reflection, her mouth filled with bile, her jaw clenched so hard that it began to hurt, and everything made sense.

Written on her forehead, in the same trembling and green letters, was written the word ‘Pesty’, and under it, ‘Prue’. Then, in her cheeks, nose, and chin, there was a question. A question that sounded terribly mocking and that she read with the voices of everyone in his mind. Parkinson, Malfoy, his companions of Slytherin, of Gryffindor, of the other houses, of her elementary school, and even those of her own family:

"Who would love someone like you?".

Prue stayed frozen, reading and rereading the painful phrase. She felt his heart speed up and her body tremble. The voices swirled in her head, forming the laughter of her classmates that time a girl cut her uniform skirt; forming the phrases of passive-aggressive repulsion that her parents directed at her every morning; even forming silence on each and every one of her birthdays. In those moments she felt a kind of anger combined with sadness whilst looking astonished in the mirror. Her body trembled even harder, and her nose began to tickle him. Her vision was filled with little dots of colour.

_Who would love someone like you?_

The girl hit the mirror with all her strength suddenly, fragmenting it and doing terrible damage to her knuckles, which started to bleed. She was so furious and hurt, however, that she barely noticed any kind of pain. She opened the tap and splashed water across her face, which she brushed and brushed with such force that it began to burn, at which point she stopped. Resigned, she looked at herself again in the mirror, and many of her replies returned the look: Her skin had turned red, but the letters were still there, as bright as before. She growled.

_Who would love someone like you?_

She rinsed the blood from her hands and tried to remove the letters with more soap and water, but seeing that it didn’t work, she went to her room to try to think how to get rid of the hateful message. The problem was that her mind was too scattered, too obsessed with bitter memories, not counting the terrible headache she felt and the pain that was beginning to be felt throughout the body by the violent tremors; which was a set of things that made it impossible to think.

_Who would love someone like you?_

“Lucifer!”, she shrieked. The huge cat approached cautiously, for he had never seen her like this before. He had seen her with contained fury, and he had seen her cry, but never like this. Prue took a piece of parchment she found lying in the shattered room. She scribbled a message to her sister, one where she vaguely explained what had happened and that maybe she needed a potion. Then she rolled the parchment and stuck it on the animal's collar. “Take this to Camelia”.

Lucifer tangled in her legs, perhaps in a consolation attempt, and exited for a hole in the stone wall. Prue was still trembling with anger, her legs shaking like a newborn fawn, and the only thing she could think of was cold water. Cold water, because it always helped her calm down, no matter how much she hated it. So she undressed and sat into the tub, filling it with the coldest water her body could stand.

After a while, when her body temperature had dropped enough and she was calmer, she left the bathroom and went to her bed, looking at the canopy, totally naked. She felt numb, as if there was nothing in her.

_Who would love someone like you?_

It had been Malfoy. The ‘D’ in the note couldn’t mean anything other than ‘Draco’. That's why the letters looked so shaky, because his arm was probably still hurting. Besides, hadn’t he told Camelia that he ‘wanted to paint her face, but better on another occasion’? Prue felt the anger returning. He, who once assured Camelia that he really cared for Prue. He, the one who had betrayed her trust. It was obvious that there was something wrong with Prue, but it wasn’t to her liking that everyone knew for sure and made fun of her. True, she had beaten Malfoy once or twice in the past, but she would never put him through anything like that. She would never expose him in such a way. She would never make such a joke just to laugh for a while. Anger began to rise up her throat, pushing to escape in a scream, at least a whisper, but she held it back.

The minutes passed, and instead of stopping, the anger grew and grew, running through her veins and being pumped from the depths of her heart... But something else was taking over her. Something low and painful. Something that cut deeper than rage. She pursed her lips and clenched her fists in an attempt to avoid it. She hurt her mouth and her palms unintentionally, but she had to repress it.

She was not going to do it. Not for something like that. Not for someone like that.

_Who would love someone like you?_

The young girl stayed awake until about three o'clock in the morning, time at which her body finally grew too tired of being so tense and contained. She sighed, whimpered, and relaxed, lying face down. Tears finally came out, soaking the pillows, though she hardly cared. She just wanted to end whit it and be able to sleep... Sleep and forget the feelings of humiliation, pain and anger.


	6. Detentions and Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which is stablished that Prudence needs help too.

_"I don't wanna talk to you!  
Don't ask me!"_

 

A month.

A month had passed and Prue hadn’t recovered.

Needless to say, Camelia was breaking her head to try and help the green-eyed girl, and she wasn’t the only one. Luna had joined the cause without the redhead having to ask, as well as Neville, and even Harry and Hermione tried laying a hand. They weren’t Prue's friends as such, but somehow, it was important to them. Maybe because she was her friend's sister, or maybe because they had liked the little they had lived with her. Camelia wasn’t sure why, but she was happy to see so much people helping in her ‘recuperation of my annoying twin mission’.

In any case, nothing seemed to help. Filling her with gifts hadn’t paid off, nor had bringing her to Hogsmade. They had asked the kitchen elves to always send a plate of mashed potatoes wherever Prue sat, but without any kind of reaction. The girl ate for the sake of eating, and walked automatically to all places. She didn’t care about anything, even Lucifer, who had become Camelia's pet. It was depressing to see her, and also to see Lucifer, who seemed torn by the absence of his human.

Camelia, on the other hand, was becoming more and more worried every day. Prue was always like a fire, an intense flame. Not because of her vivacity or passion, but because of her personality in general. The girl was scathing and direct, with a very dark humour and an infinite seriousness, but despite that there was something irresistible about her. Something that drew so much attention from everyone, something that made the difference between seriousness and dissociation so remarkable. Camelia couldn’t name it, but now it wasn’t there anymore, nor anything. There were no sarcastic comments, no harsh words, there was nothing. Prue kept quiet and lost in her thoughts, and if someone spoke to her, she didn’t pay the slightest attention. It was unnerving, and Camelia never believed that something could put her twin like that. She had been furious when she found out, so much so that she was willing to teach a lesson to whoever had done it, but Prue didn’t tell her.

"It's not your battle", she growled as she wiped her face, and didn’t say anything else since that day.

Luckily, that Friday morning the redhead thought she had found the solution. A solution that almost fell from the sky.

There were few things that Prue really liked, but when she admitted that she liked something, it was because she felt an intense passion for it. Among the things that everyone knew she liked was Quidditch, the Potions class, the Magical Creatures in general, and Lucifer. However, there was something else, something that only she and Draco knew: Prue had an immense passion for the Dark Arts, much greater than anything else. Her twin always tried to sneak into Knockturn Alley, and Camelia suspected that much of her obsession with the Dark Arts had to do with things Lucius Malfoy had taught her. She wouldn’t hesitate a second to point to that blond as the cause, since he was the only one with access to that kind of things. Draco denied it, and Prue said she liked it just for the sake of it, but Camelia knew. She felt it.

Be that as it may, what Camelia found lying on the floor in a deserted corridor through which she must always pass had to do with the Dark Arts. In fact, it was a very thick and large book, like an encyclopaedia or something like that. It was titled, in an ironic way, ‘The Dark Art’s Art’. Camelia had no idea where it had come from, maybe someone had taken it from the Forbidden Section, although she didn’t care. She was willing to break some rules in order to return Prue's ‘joy’.

With that in mind she sneaked the book into her room where no one would see it. She’d give it to Prue later, maybe in the evening, once the classes were over and she could catch her before she slipped back to her Common Room. She was sure that with it, everything would be back to normal.

It was her last hope.

#♤

The Transformations class took place without nothing out of the ordinary: Hermione was in front, teaching everyone how to turn a cat into a handbag; Professor McGonagall gave points to Gryffindor; and the others applauded lazily. Yes, everything was in the usual place, if not for a certain student who was sitting at the back of the room, looking out the window, totally absent from the lesson.

Everyone noticed that Prue wasn’t the same, even if they knew her only by sight. She had always sat in the front, staring with such attention that it was even unnerving at times. She always handed all her assignments and jobs, and if they asked her, she didn’t fail in her answer... But that girl was no longer there, and Prue couldn’t care less.

During that class, the green-eyed girl was absorbed in looking out the window, thinking about what it would feel like to fly like a nightingale. From that day that her face was painted, her attention was fragmented and her mind didn’t leave her in peace: Either it reminded her of the mocking phrase and how true it was, or it was extinguished one hundred percent. Prue didn’t remember exactly what date they were on, nor did she know anything about her classes. She didn’t have notes, assignments, or participations. It was as if the girl had ceased to exist, and she herself sometimes felt that she would like that.

Wouldn’t it be better for everyone? Parkinson had said it: Disappear and forget how to appear. Stop being. Camelia wouldn’t have to worry more about not making her angry, and her parents would have one less mouth to feed. Lucifer could stay with Filch and Mrs Norris. Snape wouldn’t have to take care all the damn days that she didn’t blow up a potion.

Everyone would be happier if she wasn’t around. Their lives would be easier.

When the class ended, sooner rather than later, McGonagall started asking for homework. Some students managed to sneak out whilst the woman told Neville that he gave her the task of Charms, not Transfiguration. Prue, on her part, just stood up and left, following the others. She hadn’t noticed that the class was over, but since she saw everyone leave, she decided to follow them. That was what she was doing most lately, and also one of the reasons why her change was more evident: Follow the others.

Not that she could go very far, because before even putting one foot outside, the professor called her and asked her to stay a few minutes more. Prue ignored her classmates and friends, but she never would ignore an authority who gave her such a direct order. So she just returned and stood next to McGonagall's desk, looking at a stone on the floor, again dissociating.

When the classroom had emptied the woman stared at her, but only managed to get her attention when she spoke.

"Can I know what happened to you, Miss Pennyworth?”, she asked. Prue looked at her and tilted her head without understanding, and not because she played dumb, but because she really didn’t understand. What was she supposed to do there, again? McGonagall sighed. “You haven’t made a single successful transformation, you haven’t participated or won points, you haven’t given me any tasks either. And if memory doesn’t fail me, Pennyworth, you were one of my best students of all this generation, and of all my life. That's why I ask you, what's wrong?”.

Prue didn’t respond. Despite the fact that the joke was completely over between all the houses, with the exception of Parkinson, Anderson, and her friends, Prue was still affected by it and didn’t want to talk about such a thing, much less with a professor, much less with McGonagall, with whom Prue felt no confidence unlike, for example, Snape or Dumbledore. She was also sure that the school staff knew very well what had happened, so she didn’t understand why she was asking.

McGonagall seemed to notice her discomfort. She sighed yet again and adjusted her glasses.

“Listen, Prudence... This has gone too far. Not for them, they’re just a bunch of brute thugs who don’t know what you're worth, but for you. Not only is my class, is all the other ones too. You have absolutely nothing in them, and if you keep this up, you will not only lose the right to play Quidditch, participate in the Duel Club and go to Hogsmade; you will also be deprived of presenting quarterly exams. You could even be expelled. Do you understand how serious it is, Prue?”, explained the woman.

There was silence, a short silence, but it served for Prue's blocked mind to finally react and understand what was happening. The idea of losing everything for a bunch of little bastards, especially that imbecile Malfoy, woke the girl up a bit. It made her feel a tide of emotions that, while negative, were much better than the nothing she’d been feeling for weeks. Frustration with herself, anger, annoyance, disappointment, disbelief. She looked at the teacher with wide eyes.

"Luckily for you", the woman went on, arranging the homework scrolls, "the other professors and I have agreed to give you an opportunity to catch up. You just have to talk to Professor Snape to fix everything, okay? He’ll tell you what you will do. Well, you can go now, Pennyworth”, she said as she saw Prue nodding. She turned to leave, but before exiting she stopped for a moment.

“Professor?”, she called. McGonagall looked up from the parchments.

“Yes, Miss Pennyworth?”.

"Thank you", she said, and left, walking much more awake than before.

McGonagall had achieved it. She managed to get her out of her reverie. She managed to make her mind leave dissociation by showing her how fucked up her situation was. Prue knew it, and although at first she didn’t care, now she was beginning to feel anger with herself. How could she be so stupid? Not only did she give the satisfaction to Malfoy and Parkinson and all of them to know that they had managed to affect her, but now she was also dicing with death for her stupidity. Getting up every day was an almost strenuous job, and the only thing that kept her going was school, was learning... And she was about to lose everything, to get expelled.

In addition, she realized between her tide of emotions, she’d been avoiding Camelia and Lucifer. She’d been rude to her sister, who didn’t deserve to suffer her problems; and she’d abandoned Lucifer to his fate. She was more than stupid: She was a real imbecile. She was so upset that she had dug her nails into the palms of her hands, hurting herself, penetrating the skin. The same thing had happened to her the night they painted her.

She had to control herself.

Prue entered through a passage and leaned against the stone wall, placing both hands against her chest and bending a little. Her breathing was agitated, altered in a whole, and she also felt a pain in the chest. She thought it was her poor heart, which was pumping too hard. Pumping, as usual, anger. She had to calm down or she would end up killing someone (probably, herself), so it was essential that she stop at once. Keeping her feelings in a cage worked pretty well, and it wasn’t too difficult. It was what she did best. She had years of practice.

After a few minutes, Prue finally managed to contain herself. Her breathing slowed down, her heart returned to a normal rhythm, and her hands stopped hurting when she cast them a simple healing spell. She was still angry, but she wasn’t furious anymore. The only thing that bothered her a little was a strange sensation that pressed on her chest. She recognized it a little, but she had never felt it so much.

In any case, the girl decided that she could continue. Her next class was Care of Magical Creatures with Ravenclaw, which although had become very boring since the Buckbeak incident with Malfoy, changed her into a slightly better mood. She could also take advantage and talk to Camelia and tell her what was happening, and apologize. She already wanted to see the face that her twin would make upon seeing her do something that wasn’t slipping everywhere.

#♤

The three friends jogged behind the young blonde, still asking each other what could happen with Snape. Prue told Camelia that she would explain things to her at lunchtime, and to her surprise, Longbottom and Lovegood had also appeared, interested and concerned. She remembered then that the two of them had also been helping Camelia on her mission of ‘recuperating my irritating little sister’ (she assured the name was other, but she’d already forgotten. Prue still rolled her eyes at the name). She felt very sorry for both of them for behaving so rudely, but they didn’t seem bothered in the least, and instead, they encouraged her and reminded her that things weren’t completely lost. Prue didn’t stop thanking them all day.

The fact is that the three listened to the explanation of what McGonagall had said, and showed their support. First, asking her if she felt good (to which she insisted that she was, almost annoyed), and then assuring her that the conversation with Snape wouldn’t be so bad. The man was intimidating even to her, and they knew it, so they tried to relax her a little.

"Maybe he puts a little star on your forehead and gives you a hundred points”, Camelia commented loudly, making a very bad joke. They were a few corridors away from Snape's office. Prue rolled her eyes.

"Do not be such an idiot, Camelia", she said. The redhead just shook her head; she was happy that Prue was the same as always, and she still hadn’t given her her special gift.

“What do you think he’ll tell you, Prue?”, Neville asked. She shrugged.

"Most likely, I'll get a Harry Potter-style scolding. At least no one will be able around to see it”, she said coldly, though it was remarkable in the eyes of her twin that she was nervous.

They soon arrived at the door of Snape's office, where they were supposed to separate from her to go to dinner. However, the three young students stood there, looked at each other, and told Prue that they would wait for her nearby. Camelia confessed that she still believed that Snape would let her go without much drama, to which Prue sent her away before she punched her for being so naive. Her twin laughed and walked away, disappearing at the end of the corridor.

"Good luck, Prue", Neville wished, with a warm smile. Luna gave her an amulet from a plant with such a strange name that Prue didn’t even understand, but it was supposed to reassure her for what she was about to face. The green-eyed girl thanked both of them as she watched them walk away and then turned to look at the black wooden door.

What if Camelia was right? As cold and rude as he was with her, as with everyone, Prue couldn’t deny that Snape treated her differently. He had a lot of patience with her, much bigger than he had ever had, as they commented around there, but it was not only that, nor the fact that he always gave her high marks even when she didn’t do anything right. Prue had caught him several times giving candy to Lucifer. He said good morning and good night to her when he met her in the hallways, as long as she was alone. Once even, in her first year, he had given her his cloak when she came back from Hagrid's cabin and it was raining cats and dogs. When Prue told Camelia this, two years ago, her twin had put her hands in her mouth and had been so impressed that she was speechless. Prue still had the cloak, kept in the closet of her house. She used to take it out after having a bad day and used it to sleep, as it comforted her and reminded her that someone aside her sister and her grandfather had cared for her, even if it had only been for saving her from catching a cold.

Even if Snape was different, a little kinder, Prue was extremely nervous. She was afraid of what he would say, and what she could answer. She had been on an emotional roller coaster and nothing assured her she could tie her tongue. Above all, Prue feared that he would stop being ‘special’ with her because she disappointed him. She took a breath and knocked on the door, no longer thinking.

“Come in”.

Although she had been in Snape's office before, Prue had never felt it so small and suffocating. Her legs trembled so much they looked like jelly, and as she approached the desk she thought if it would be very terrible to fall there, in front of Snape, who looked so big and intimidating, like a huge bird of prey that waited patiently to destroy its victim. By the time she reached the chair she had a knot in her stomach, goosebumps under her typical pink hoodie, and the heart bolting.

And still, her face was expressionless.

“Where do you want to start, Pennyworth?”, Snape said in the lowest voice Prue had ever heard. Black eyes sparkled and penetrated her own soul, or so she felt. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. Snape snorted, stood up, and started pacing around the office without taking his eyes off the girl. “Oh, do you not know what I'm talking about?”.

"I do not understand what you mean", Prue replied.

“Very well. Should I start with your pathetic attitude, miss? Or with your ridiculous grades, if that’s how you can call having absolutely nothing in all classes? Or maybe better with your incredible uselessness?”, Snape snarled coldly. Each word made Prue feel less nervous and more stifled. Why was he talking to her like that? She just wanted to talk about what she was going to do yo catch up, not talk about how useless everyone considered her, about how clumsy and inept she was. She pursed her lips.

“Why do not you better inform me of how I will recover my grades, professor?”, she asked in a hoarse voice, trying to make her tone not sound very strange, or very challenging.

Snape passed close Prue, walking with his hands behind his back and his lips in a grimace of displeasure. He stood beside her, half-closing his eyes. He was a tall man, much more so for a little girl like her. He looked like an ivory tower from the blonde's point of view.

“Why don’t we better talk about what I want to talk about?”, he growled, crossing his arms. “Can you tell me what was going through that hollow head of yours when doing this? Exemplary student, the pride of Slytherin!... And then third year arrives and you decide to throw everything away. Why?”, the man asked furiously. Prue was silent and held his gaze out of sheer pride. Her eyes began to sting. “I'll tell you why, miss Pennyworth. For a stupid prank from your housemates! Since when do you care what your colleagues do or think of you, Pennyworth?”.

"You do not know anything", Prue answered reluctantly, also crossing her arms and looking down, surrendering in the stare contest. She didn’t have the slightest desire to share her concerns with Snape, but he was stirring them up and she felt that she was going to fall apart. He frowned.

“You think I know nothing, Pennyworth? I can assure you that I know much more than you”, he said, again in a quiet, low voice. “And let me tell you, I never thought you were such an idiot as to be carried away by gossip”.

“Gossip?”, Prue whispered, her voice barely understandable, muffled. She looked at her hands, which trembled in her lap. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, hot tears escaping them against her will. “Do you really think that they are just gossiping? That is why I tell you you do not know anything!”, she screamed with sudden fury, rising from her chair and facing the professor. At that moment she understood what was her need: to let it out. That pressure in her chest that she’d felt in the afternoon, the one she always felt when she stayed quiet, was nothing more than her feelings and thoughts begging her to let them out, to admit that everything was wrong. She’d been assuring all day that everything was fine. She’d been assuring for a long time that everything was fine, that she didn’t care that everyone neglected her the attention she needed, that everyone let her fall and often dragged her along the pavement, but she was tired.

“Sit down, Pennywo--...”.

“I won’t!”, she exclaimed. How dare he try to calm her now, when she had already decided to throw all her self-control down the drain? “It was you who wanted to talk about this. Do you know what the problem is, professor? That I do not have anyone! Nobody explains things to me, nobody supports me, nobody trusts in me! Do you know how many times they have _forgotten_ my birthday? Do you know how many days I have spent locked up and alone at home until someone _remembered_ that it existed? Do you know how many times I have felt that I am _worth_ less than a _penny_? Hundreds, _thousands_ of times. And my parents would welcome Sirius Black at home before paying attention to me! And now, to top it off, I come to Hogwarts, my only home, and the bloody _imbecile_ Parkinson joins the bloody _idiot_ Malfoy and they decide to remind me how little I am worth! And then I come with you to help me recover my grades, and you decide that it is also a good time to tell me how _useless_ my existence is! Do you understand now? Do you understand what is going through my hollow head? The problem is **not** what they say!”, she snapped, returning her gaze to Snape's. Her green eyes sparkled with fury, with rancour, and tears felt down like waterfalls; his black eyes looked at her surprised, speechless. “The problem is not what they say, Professor Snape. The problem is not that they say that nobody loves me", she whispered, her chest aching. She sniffed and swallowed hard. "The problem is that it is true”.

Silence reigned in the office. Prue suddenly felt weak, so she collapsed into the chair again, putting her face in her hands, trying to silence her cry. She hadn’t realized that she’d been screaming all the time, much less that she’d cried. Her throat hurt from the effort, as well as her chest, but she felt... different. She felt a kind of liberation for admitting that this was bad, that everything was very bad. She felt as if a weight had been removed from her shoulders.

When she managed to calm down completely, the blonde began to feel uncomfortable. She leaned back in the chair, eyes closed, and sighed. To have had such an outrage in front of a professor... Well, yes, everything was fucked up. At least, she thought, Snape couldn’t say that everything was false or that she was acting.

"Pennyworth", Snape called. She opened her eyes and found him sitting behind the desk, looking at her with nothing in his eyes. At least nothing Prue could recognize. “You’ll have Detention with me every day as extra classes. This way you can recover your month of... absence”.

“Will you give me the classes? I mean, I thought I would go with the other professors", Prue said, monotone. Again she had her usual inexpression, as if nothing had happened. Snape nodded.

"And since you’re going to take a lot of my precious time, I hope you do not waste it, miss Pennyworth", he threatened. Prue blinked a couple of times before nodding and muttering a ‘thank you’.

After a while of planning the schedule they would have and how they would distribute the classes, Prue was finally dismissed. The girl got up, took the parchment where she had written down what was necessary, and prepared to leave. She still felt uncomfortable, but there wasn’t much to do. What was she supposed to say to Snape, ‘I'm sorry’? Because the truth is that she wasn’t sorry. She hadn’t walked in there with the intention of shouting at him and acting like a mad-man, but she wasn’t going to apologize for something that, in the end, was making her feel better.

Thank him for not taking a thousand points for acting the way she acted? It was an option, but it embarrassed her. That's what she felt most: A deep shame for having snapped like this, for having stumbled like that. Did her problems matter to him? No, obviously... But Prue felt the need to say something, whatever. Or, perhaps, she wanted him to tell her something, that he would take the charge of mentioning the event.

"Pennyworth", he called again just before she left. Prue turned around with her heart racing once more, excitement and anxiety in her veins. She looked at him. She saw some insecurity in him, and she knew that he saw weariness in her. “If you have doubts, or curiosity, or whatever, know that I’ll be willing to help you with what you need”.

It was as if someone put her in an oven. Prue felt heat all over her body, making her want to take off her sweater right there with the rest of her clothes; but above all she felt warmth on her face. She must’ve been red like a tomato. She scratched the bridge of her nose.

"Thank you, Professor", she said without having any idea of what else to say, and left the room closing the door rather harshly unintentionally. She leaned against it, sighing and putting a hand on her forehead. She felt as if she was over 40 degrees, and was surprised that a shy smile was rising on her lips. She covered her mouth, although she couldn’t deny that she was excited. Disgustingly excited. Not that he had said much, but to her it meant way too much. It was the first time that she felt so supported. Camelia had been there, and her friends too, but what some children could do in contrast to what an adult support meant... Well, it was a lot to take.

Eager to drown her sorrows in mashed potatoes, Prue headed toward the Great Hall. She wondered if...

“Prue!”, Camelia exclaimed, emerging from a corner, with Luna and Neville behind, startling the blonde in such a way that it made her jump. She saw them with resentment and greeted them, feeling foolish for having forgotten that she and her friends were still there. She kept walking, heading the march again. As they walked, she wondered if the three of them had heard everything. “Hey, Prue, I... Emm...”.

Yes, because of her apologetic tone, they had heard it. Prue could only imagine how bad Camelia felt and how uncomfortable Lovegood and Longbottom must’ve been for listening to something that was totally private. But Prue didn’t want stupid apologies for something that, first of all, didn’t deserve them.

“Shut up, Camelia. We are going to have dinner”, she said, quickening her pace, ready to leave them behind if with that they managed to forget the subject, or leave it in the air.

“No! Wait!”, Camelia squealed, trying to follow her twin's hurried pace, since she was able to walk really fast. “Listen, Prue, I'm sorry!”.

“Well I am more bloody sorry, period. Now shut up and let's pig out. I am starving, and I am sure the three of you too”, the green-eyed barked. Camelia sighed, giving up, but then smiled.

“Okay, but, uh, do you feel better?”.

The blonde suddenly stopped, giving time for the other ones to catch up. Camelia stood at her side, watching her expectantly, and Luna and Neville stayed a little behind, respecting her space.

"Yes", she said in the end, with conviction and a nod. “I feel better now. Thanks, by the way, to all all of you”.

“You’ve been saying that word all day. Thanks for what?”.

“For being there”.

#♤

It was rare for Camelia to accompany Prue to her Common Room. It was usually the blonde who escorted her sister to the tower, and then returned alone to the dungeons, but not this time. The reason was that Camelia wanted to give her something special, but it had to be in the most private place possible, and there was nothing more solitary than the dungeons. The blonde was racking her brains to know what would be the surprise.

"If it is clothing, Camelia...", she grumbled, like one of her last options, already annoyed. The redhead laughed. Making Prue mad was so, so easy...

“No, is not that. Look, let's sit here”, she said, pointing to a wall that had an edge that would serve well enough to sit for a while. The twins settled down. “There are two things, right? The first one is this”.

Silence, nothing happened. Prue and Camelia stared at each other. The girl raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was going on. The older frowned.

"I said, the __first one is this__ ”, she repeated with special emphasis.

It was then that the door in front of them opened, and nothing more than a ball of black fur came out of it. Prue squeaked his name, and Lucifer jumped into her arms, owner and pet finally reunited. The girl said to the cat a thousand apologies whilst hugging and caressing him, and he only purred loudly and bit her hands and arms with affection.

"I promise not to leave you without food again", she muttered. She had forgotten how good it felt to have Lucifer in her arms. He was her best friend and her best therapy. He made her feel safe and strong.

"How nice to see you together again", said Camelia, smiling. She didn’t get along too well with Lucifer, but she knew how important he was to Prue and she was really glad to see them reconciled. She gave applause. “Now, this is your second surprise”, she said, taking out the book she found in the morning from her backpack. Prue sat Lucifer by her side and took the gift.

“Where the bloody hell did you get this?”, she asked after running her fingers across the deck, reading the sympathetic title, her emeralds shining with emotion. She’d read a lot of Dark Arts, courtesy of Lucius and his huge amount of books on the subject, but she’d never seen that book before. Above all it was interesting to know what Camelia had done to get her hands on that.

“It's a secret. Just enjoy it, okay?”, she answered, getting up and arranging her backpack, starting to leave without giving a satisfactory answer. “And don’t let anyone see it, obviously! Now go to sleep. Surely Lucifer and you have a lot to talk about to catch up. Good night, Prue”.

The blonde looked down the hall and said nothing. If Camelia didn’t want to give her the information, she would find it alone. It's not that she didn’t want the book, but she didn’t want her twin to be getting into trouble for it. If she discovered that it was a lost book from the Forbidden Section of the library, she would return it, even if it hurt.

Besides... She could always try to convince Snape to sign a letter so she could take it out again. She had already convinced him before about other things, like leaving her a room all to herself, or allowing Lucifer to stay in his office when he had a fight with Mrs Norris and was depressed. Snape didn’t like that because he didn’t like Lucifer, but Prue insisted so much that he decided that he liked her even less than having the cat with him from time to time.

Prue was sure that Snape liked company. Lucifer was a good cat, as long as she didn’t order the opposite.

Saving the book in her backpack and carrying Lucifer, the blonde went to the Common Room. Maybe Parkinson would start annoying her with her friends, but Prue felt strong enough to send her directly and non-stopping to hell itself.

#♤

The blonde was lying on her bed, face down and with Lucifer lying on her back. The girl had been there since dinner, resting like a snake, digesting all the mashed potatoes she had swallowed. She was satisfied and happy, or at least in peace. It was Friday, and she had a weekend ahead of her to enjoy before her Detentions began. She was nervous to think that she would have to see Snape after what she did, but she thought that maybe by then she would have beover it.

The girl leaned on her elbows, reflecting. If she thought about it, she was going to be with Snape alone for two hours after lessons. Prue knew she could use that time for something extra, for finally figuring out what she felt for that man. Admiration? Respect? Paternity? Or, maybe, something else? She didn’t know. Just like Snape treated her slightly different, she also treated him slightly different. She always gave him presents at Christmas, which she didn’t do with any other professor. Sh often left candies on the desk when classes were over. Also, when she played Quidditch and caught the snitch, the first thing she always did was go to his office and give him the ball.

Yes, she was different with him, and that could only mean that she felt something else for him. What exactly? She still didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. She was going to discover it soon, or so she expected. And in any case, she couldn’t contain her excitement about it.

Looking to the other side, Prue spotted the huge tome Camelia had given her. She was dying to read it. If she hadn’t done it yet, it was because she didn’t want to finish it very soon. She had taken a very superficial look at it, reading the index and her interest was especially stung by the section of Curses and Dark Spells, which was divided into dangerous and difficult spells, but also in simple and not very harmful (within what was possible). Prue already wanted to get to that passage, and learn. She saw herself bewitching Parkinson and Malfoy. Nothing that hurt them too much, just something that made them feel bad. It was enough to leave them a couple of hours in the infirmary. She was a cruel child, it has already been said, and she accepted that part of herself.

But she didn’t want to read it yet. She had to ration it, save it for when there was nothing to do.

But on the other hand... It was a very thick book, maybe reading a couple of chapters wouldn’t hurt. With that in mind, Prue removed Lucifer from her back and took the encyclopaedia, checking the index again and then anxiously reading the introduction, telling herself that she would only read that small part, so she could lull and fall asleep.

At around midnight, Prue had already read half the book.

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a Tumblr. I try for it to be a writeblr but honestly it's mostly just memes. However, feel free to go check it out. I sometimes draw things, and I may say a thing or two about this and other fics. Spoiler free, of course. Here it is: https://fabulouslymashed.tumblr.com/


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